Every Kim Possible
by Love Robin
Summary: Kim vs a Supreme One… The fates of Every Kim Possible and two multiverses hang in the balance. Multiple instances of KiGo is in there as well… EKP
1. Half‑Lives

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kim Possible. She and related characters are owned by Disney and Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley. As this is a Multiverse story, any variations in established or original characters are my treatment and belong to me unless otherwise noted in the closing notes. At any rate it is best to ask me who to get permissions from. Otherwise hands off. Understand?

**Every Kim Possible**

Chapter One – _Half-Lives_

"She's dead! _Kim Possible_ is dead!"

The teenage girl froze, eyes wide in shock hearing those words. _No! Not her!_

"_Sis__‼__"_ yelled Jim and Tim in unison. As with one mind four M249 automatic rifles, one in each of their hands, lifted as the burly twins stepped out into the corridor intersection side by side. _"Bastaaaarrrrrdddds__‼"_ stereo shouts degraded into wordless guttural cries of agony as they proceeded to cut loose a deadly barrage of high-speed lead.

"We need some of her DNA!" Wade rumbled.

Without thought Ron scrambled low, "I'm all over that!" With monkey-like mobility he disappeared low around the corner as the former Tweebs only incidentally provided covering fire. It was doubtful they even noticed the blond, so lost were they in their pain.

"Keep moving!" the black giant bodily picked the girl up and, tucking her under his arm, ran for the distant end of the tunnel, the others following suit. "Hurry and get that door open Doctor!" he yelled to the pair at the corridor's dead end where a bespectacled black man worked with a security panel.

Numbed to the core of her soul, the teen could do little more than watch the legs and feet of the former webmaster and the rest of the pitiful remnant of the Resistance cover ground to a destination that no longer held any meaning.

_All is lost! Our last hope against the Supreme One… gone!_

Less than an hour ago they still had that hope…

The afternoon heat laid like a heavy blanket across the New Mexico desert in _Chibola County,_ about forty miles southwest of Albuquerque. Hidden among the mesas and other towering wind-formed sandstone structures to be found along either side of Indian Route 55, sits a former military base that used to be home to an ICBM missile silo. Decommissioned sometime after the implementation of _START,_ the _STrategic Arms Reduction Treaty_ between the United States and the Soviet Union signed in 1992. With only the weather worn hulks of a couple of Cadillac-Gage Three Hundred Series six-by-six Light Armored Vehicles left over to hint at the former use of the place, the base remained empty and unused ever since.

As far as the general public knew.

The stillness of the afternoon was shattered as a low tremble in the ground built in intensity. Peculiarly localized storm clouds formed only a couple hundred feet above a remarkably well maintained double helipad, each half marked by crisscrossed circles painted in vivid yellow. Small visible bolts of energy known as St Elmo's Fire danced about them as its rumbling mass grew until the thin bolts started striking the ground with increasing frequency. Finally, with a resounding thunderclap it began to rain.

Only what struck the manicured asphalt surface was not water.

As if an unseen giant was shaking pieces of a huge three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle out onto the ground, minute but easily visible hunks of matter fell from the darkly roiling clouds. However, unlike a spilled time-consuming hobby, the components fell into place, the puzzle reassembling itself.

Or rather, themselves.

All the while the cascading nuggets of mass rapidly accumulated and collated, taking form as several people, it was readily obvious they were _alive._ Even before the reconstruction was complete, excruciating pain could be _seen_ and _felt._ Tortured wails, at first only half heard like distant and ghostly lost souls, grew louder and firmer as the process neared its completion until in less than a minute a dozen and a half people and a hairless pink rodent in a miniature breastplate lay twitching on the tarmac, groaning and gasping raggedly for breath. With another clap of thunder the cloud of energy dissipated, resealing the wormhole opened by the quantum tunneler. It was easy to see which of the group was used to the method of transportation, and which were not.

The first on his feet was a gruff and serious looking man whose very bearing screamed _military._ Still in pain, he nonetheless scanned the area three-sixty, his scuffed and scratched M-16 aimed wherever his eyes did.

"R… re… report Gunny," a woman barked with an authoritative voice as she made to her knees. She too scanned the immediate area, her left eye blinking away tears while her right, set in a metallic half mask, glowed an electrically brilliant blue.

"No sign of the enemy Colonel," he replied.

"Mr Barken," she shook her head, "I know you prefer to keep your rank, but as both _WJ_ and now the Resistance are no more, I'm back to plain ol' Ms Direction."

"You earned both the position and my respect, so pardon me ma'am if I continue to call you by your rank, Colonel."

Still on the ground, a slender Mediterranean man was checking his weapons instead of trying to get up right away. He observed, "So far we're alone. The tunnel closed before any could follow."

"Hicka-bicka-boo!" crowed one of a set of large identical men.

The other echoed his enthusiasm with a nod, "Hooo-Sha!"

"It will not be long before they'll be able to follow us," stated a man with a goatee. He was still laying on his back, breathing hard. He too cast his gaze about their surroundings, the strapless eye-patch covering his left eye flipping up to reveal a sophisticated sensor array underneath. "The next wormhole advent is in but twenty-nine minutes. It broaches from three timelines away from where we started. The good news is that currently there are no direct or semi-direct conjunctions between them. The bad is, if they push themselves, there's a roundabout course of seven wormholes that'll let them just make it."

"_¡Mãe de Deus!"__ Mother of God! _exclaimed the dark-haired Hispanic girl just pulling herself up. "Seven of _that?_ Back-to-back?"

"Eight, counting the final adit here," he corrected.

"No way!"

"Way Zita," Kim Possible assured, already steady on her feet, brushing herself off. She then assisted a tall slender woman upright and whispered, "You okay Mom?" The older redhead nodded. With a gasp she spotted and hurried to aid another slight built redheaded teen still groaning on her side, already in medic mode.

"Yeah," snarked a woman with olive eyes and long black hair as she helped up the other redhead, hugging her dearly and dismissing Ann. _"The Supreme One,"_ despite wearing colors indicating she used to be among the tyrant's forces, she spat the name, "makes her generals practically sleep in agony booths and kills whoever so much as flinches during a transit."

A young man built like a football player remarked, "Real nice lady that."

"Oh you don't know the half of it Brick," Ron hopped to his feet in one smooth motion. "She's Ruthless Incarnate." He moved to a position between Zita and a Japanese girl dressed all in black, offering a hand to each, "And how're my two spe_-si-_al ladies doing after that wringer?"

"_Sinto-me como merda,"__ I feel like shit,_ complained Zita, for once not smiling at his 'special' joke, but taking his hand gratefully. "How about you Yori?"

"Oh Zita, you with your South American colorful language," the ninja smiled, taking the other proffered hand, "have, how do you say, 'hit me on the head'?"

"'It', Yor," the blond corrected as he easily boosted them to upright positions before enfolding both into a three-way embrace. "Hit 'it' on the head," he finished as both kissed him lovingly on opposite cheeks. "Now, you two kiss… _oww!"_ both smacked the back of his head in practiced unison.

The black giant, Wade, checked a wrist-mounted device. He addressed the teen leader, "Right on target. _Themis Universe,_ two weeks after your graduation."

"Wow, practically the day we left," Ron remarked.

"Practically the minute," the genius chuckled. "That's quantum mechanics for you. You can't double exist in your native universe at the same time, so this was the earliest that a wormhole would allow us… _you_… to arrive."

The redhead shook her head at the complexities of cross-dimensional travel between alternate universes. Nothing taught in high school even remotely covered the situation. The closest brush she had to this was the time the Pan Dimensional Vortex Inducer got its signals crossed with cable television. One of the Supreme One's earliest campaigns had been to round up and eradicate all copies, versions, individuals and research involved with the PDVI in an attempt to ensure she was the only one with control of crosstime travel.

Fortunately, while she concentrated her efforts there, Kim and the Resistance was able to smuggle the Quantum Tunneling technology out from under her nose. Something that rankled the woman to this day.

A perky blonde with straight hair in a bushy ponytail and melodious voice struggled to help up a teen with his lower body comprised of shiny metal, "Poor Felix. In a lot of pain? Wow you're heavy."

"Thanks Britina. Amazingly enough there's very little pain. It's just that the quantum transiting disrupts my cybernetic-neural interfaces for a few minutes."

In quick order the entire group were on their feet and taking stock of their situation and weapons. "We have to get moving," Kim Possible declared. "A lot of good people gave their lives to buy us the time we need…," she paused, emotion closing her throat.

The older Possible came over and laid a consoling hand on her shoulder. Blue eyes softened. "It's alright… Nana was practically my mother. Her courage and strength… gave us all purpose and drive. And in covering our retrea…," she too fought back tears.

Kim laid a hand atop her mother's, directing a gaze filled with steel on the group. "We must not allow their sacrifices be in vain. The clock is ticking folks. Our only hope lays in the next phase of this mission." She nodded to the olivine-skinned Mediterranean, "Agent Duz, your sole job is to protect Dr Freedman."

A man of few words, by way of acknowledgment Will clamped a hand about the older black scientist's upper arm.

"Over here!" called a clear deep voice. Rufus 4000 appeared a short distance off around the end of one of the hulking LAV-300s. He was on his hind legs and waving them over. When the group approached he led them down and around to a boxy concrete archway positioned under a sandstone overhang. It held what looked like a large armored metal garage door under a two line sign that read:

**λ ****Black Mesa ****λ  
****Central Complex**

Crowding the doorway, Will thrust his charge forward. "What makes you think this will even work?" the black man balked.

Ms Direction turned baleful eyes on him, one natural and angry, one artificial and unblinking. "You might not be the same Gordon Freeman that worked here, Doctor, but you are his idem. For all that security systems care, however, you _are_ him. You memorized the codes, yes?" He was the sole surviving alternative analogue_,_ or _idem_, of the black scientist Kim only knew as an advanced cyberneticist, yet who also turned out to have been a pivotal part of what went on in this place. When he nodded, Betty shoved him to the cement jamb with the access keypad, "Then get on with it."

"Twenty-one minutes to the next advent," the one-eyed man scanned the courtyard again as Freedman carefully started entering a long string of numbers into the digital lock.

Stepping to his side, Betty gave him a wry smile. "They won't be coming you know, right Sheldon?"

"Rest assured, the Supreme One will not give up this easily," he kept his eye and opened sensor on the direction which they came.

"Not her," she shook her head. _"GLEE._ What few of them remained faithful to you are either dead or being reeducated."

"The true _Global Lawless Evil Empire_ was shattered a long time ago my dear sister," he sighed. "She saw it brought down even before assuming the mantle of Supreme One. My sole consolation is she turned on your own _World Justice_ virtually right after."

"We're in!" Kim stated as the heavy door rolled upwards. An almost-imagined breeze wafted across their faces as air shifted _inward._

"Oh dear, negative pressure," noted Ann. "That can't be good."

"What's that?" Britina asked. "Why's that?"

"Usually air pressure inside and outside a structure, like say your house, is equalized. The same inside and out," the surgeon explained. "But there are occasions you'll come across where that is not the case. The inside is intentionally kept at a different level than the outside. For example, it's a normal practice for hospitals to maintain positive pressure in some rooms or even entire wards."

Zita inquired, "Because why?"

"Mainly to keep out any airborne germs or contagions. With the difference in air pressure inside greater than outside, anytime doors are opened the airflow pushes outward keeping germs from getting in."

The younger redhead frowned. "So if positive pressure keeps germs _out …,"_ she looked at the ominous archway, nibbling her lip pensively.

The raven-haired woman at her side finished for her, "Negative pressure would keep them _in." _

"This place's been abandoned and sealed for nearly ten years," Kim spoke loudly. "Any contagion would've burned itself out by now, if that's even the reason. It could simply be a partial failure of the base's environmental systems. Either way we have little choice. Rufus take point. Mr B, back him up, please and thank you."

With the burly Gunnery Sergeant and genetically enhanced mole-rat leading the way, and the Direction siblings bringing up the rear, the rest in the middle fell into a habitual pecking order behind Kim as the group filed inside. Sheldon paused long enough with eye-patch flipped up to once more scan the staging area. Once done he ducked under the door rumbling closed, "Sixteen minutes left."

What they found inside was pretty much stereotypical for a secret research facility which appeared to have been abandoned in a hurry. Years of dust coated most surfaces despite the efforts of still circulating air. Using a series of schematics the Wades had hacked from antiquated achieves on half a dozen cross-temporal realities, he guided them along. Where all or most of the maps agreed in details the group moved with confidence, only pausing in places for him to compare them where they diverged. In this fashion they proceeded fairly quickly past the administrative areas. Moving deeper into the lower levels was trickier. Most of the power was minimal or out completely, with only critically key systems, like emergency lighting and environmental controls, still running. After ten years even they were failing in places.

Everywhere were signs of death and destruction. The only things alive were occasional rats and scores of bugs, predominately cockroaches, all of which scattered and scurried quickly from sight upon their intrusion. Soft speculations about what might have occurred were bandied about among those less inured to such experiences.

Thanks to the grown versions of Jim and Tim, lugging along a super compact and powerful generator they had built, and Doctor Freedman's voice, hand and retinal scans granting them access where needed, not much blocked their passage. Wisely however, they shunned the elevator systems, opting for the stairs.

They were five levels down, navigating their way carefully along the tracks of an elaborate subway-like transit tunnel, when Sheldon Direction called out, "Advent in… five… four… three… two… one… ." …

On the surface, a larger scaled repeat of the first group's appearance heralded the arrival of the enemy. Quickly the constituent components of the massed numbers of armed and armored forces and their equipment reconstituted in the courtyard, overflowing the helipads. Wearing uniforms reminiscent of their leader's signature catsuit, all but one lay writhing on the hard surface in muted agony.

No one knew how she did it since the discordant super-dimensional arrangement of the cross-temporal timelines defied anticipating the quantum spatial declinations of arrival, but the older catsuited woman with the platinum streak in her long flowing hair _always_ landed on naught but her four-inch high-heeled feet. Despite the searing pain of the transferences – eight in total, averaging three minutes apart – she never flinched, never winced, never uttered so much as a whimper.

To do so would be weakness.

Not merely a _display_ of weakness. Weakness _itself._ She had not _once_ been weak in the past thirty-seven years – by her personal subjective accounting of time – since _The Buffoon_ destroyed the _Tempus Simia,_ opening a crosstime wormhole to a fateful – and fatal – encounter with herself.

Not a _past_ version of herself. An entirely from-the-birth-up _alternative_ _aberration_ of herself. Successive events proved it a flawed copy whose very existence had been an affront to her sensibilities.

Killing it made her stronger.

Killing even more flawed abominations made her stronger still.

Even though wracked with pain, the troops about her struggled to their feet as swiftly as possible. The Supreme One allowed no more than three seconds from completion after transport to be on their feet. Some of the generals might stretch the recovery time to as much as five seconds, but never in her presence. Definitely not when she accompanied them. One among them, while having gotten upright within time, failed to suppress a groan.

The Supreme One gave no indication she heard, but the mousy-brown haired woman to her left nonetheless took no chances. Should it be the Supreme One _had_ noticed and it _not_ be handled…

Her own nervous system protesting even the blinking of her eyelids, the brunette swiftly drew one of her sidearms as she spun, placing a slug between the eyes of a weedy thin black man. Even though he was in the third row back, her aim had been impeccable. He collapsed while she inspected the rest of the ranks with narrowed eyes, nodding first in satisfaction, then to those on either side of the corpse to drag it aside. She re-holstered her weapon.

"Who was that Bonnie?" the Supreme One inquired as if asking who had been on the phone, no indication of strain to her voice.

"One of the Falsettos, Mistress," the sterned-faced general forced herself to reply in the same fashion. "I'm uncertain which. One of the younger ones."

"Ah yes. They're a weak strain," she commented. "I'd've them all killed outright but for their use as cannon fodder…

"She's here. I can _feel_ her…, Bonnie, Moanique, Drew…, bring Kim Possible before me." She glanced from one general to another, eyes resting on the last, "Need I remind you she must be _alive?_

"Only _I_ shall have the privilege of killing her. _No one else!"_ The Supreme One snapped her fingers to dismiss them.

The three dropped momentarily to one knee, bowing heads to view the woman's feet. "As per your whim, Magnificent Mistress!" they called in unison. Then they stood and started barking orders, to which the soldiers moved in double-time, flowing around the Supreme One as if she a statue, to fan out in search of the installation's entrance… .

Deep down in the complex, the group felt an explosion. "Right on schedule," Sheldon commented to his formerly estranged sister. Her only answer was a tight-lipped nod. She called ahead, "Kim! Sheldon and I'll double back a couple levels up to hold them off as long as we can."

The redhead pivoted, the rest flowing around her as if she a statue. She locked eyes with both of their natural ones. They were so much like the Betty and Sheldon Directors of this line, if slightly different and older, that she had grown quite fond of them the past couple years. She only nodded in acceptance and gratitude. "Thank you for everything. Felix, go with them."

He waved, "You got it Kim. Good luck."

All knew they were really saying 'goodbye'. That the redhead was sending them to their deaths. For this was the last of the Resistance, the final hope for a thousand-fold universes… and its last desperate plan all hinged upon her. So many times she had saved the world – her world – with no more than a 'no big' and a 'so not the drama'. Only this _was_ A Big. It _was_ So the Drama. For what this mission entailed was more than simply saving _the_ world.

She had to save _all_ the worlds.

Kim only knew, if the Supreme One could subjugate more than a thousand, _she_ could free them.

She _had_ to.

She watched the cybernetically enhanced trio head back for the stairwell and the upper levels as the facility trembled again from distant explosions, dislodging showers of dust and dirt upon their heads.

Kim turned and picked up the pace to rejoin her team. "Agent Duz."

The older version of Will Du paused. This one was not as stuck up as the one she knew. At least, not anymore. "Commander?"

"Find a suitable vantage point to set up a backstop. You, Brick, and…," she scanned the thinning guerrillas. Her gaze fell upon the pony-tailed blonde and the confident way she stood with the butt of her huge rifle propped on a hip, "…Britina." The decisions were slightly harder as these were the same football and pop stars she knew, but favorites could not be played. "Mom, take charge of Dr Freedman."

All nodded, Duz already moving for a fortified location, checking his ammo supply. After the rest had moved from sight around a far bend in the transit tunnel, the trio sought the best places to make their last stands… .

Two levels above, the Direction Twins and Felix Renting waited behind squared-off concrete pillars. They knew it would not be long before the Supreme One's forces were upon them as there was a clear trail of disturbed dust from their initial passage. Sitting on the floor with their backs to the columns, weapons resting vertically between their knees, they listened to the distant sounds of the pursuers.

"Elizabeth," the bearded man whispered.

"Sheldon?"

"I just want to let you know how fun it was going up against you and _World Justice."_

A soft chuckle, "I'll admit to some glee in putting the smack on _GLEE."_ A few beats of silence as they heard the tramping steps grow closer and for the _nth_ time checked their armament.

"Shelly."

The man grunted. It had been forever since they used their reverse-gendered childhood names. He answered in kind, "Eli?"

"I'm sorry I never gave you the respect you deserved as the older twin." That elicited a stronger chuckle from him which almost broke into a full guffaw. "What's so funny?"

"Here I thought our chances of living past the next five minutes as good as a 'snowball's chance in hell', but you had to go and make it a complete nil by finally apologizing!" He chuckled louder and she joined in.

"Hate to interrupt the Hallmark and all, but here they come!" Felix hissed.

"Pépé…," Sheldon lifted his artificial right hand, clenching it into a fist while cybernetically taking inventory of its remaining armament, "This, is for you… ." …

Down below, the next set of defenders heard a few minutes of distant gunfire punctuated by a series of explosions. They understood in addition to dislodging even more detritus from overhead exactly what it signaled. The end of the three that had gone back. These three also accepted they would never again see the light of day, and in being so resigned, no longer felt fear.

After all, what price freedom?

Laying on their stomachs shoulder to shoulder on a staging platform behind a pile of rubble from a collapsed portion of ceiling, Britina cocked her rifle and muttered, "Y'know, my only regret is I never had time for a steady boyfriend."

Rick 'The Brick' Flagg used his smoothest Cool Jock tone, "I hear ya babe. _I_ regret never banging a rock star."

"Oh Brick…," she replied in a sweet voice, her eyelashes aflutter.

"Yeah babe?"

"You do know I've a big gun, right?"

"So then that'd be a 'no'?"

"Here they come," Will warned… .

The Supreme One, after giving them time to engage the pitiful remnant of the puny resistance, finally moved to follow her shock-troopers. She moved now for the same reason she had stayed back.

_Boredom._

With each version of Kim killed, another of the timelines fell. With so much of the Crosstime Multiverse firmly under her thumb, her power had grown exponentially. For her to take immediate and direct action was neither fun nor seemly for one of her station and power. The only reason why she accompanied this engagement was to be on hand when the last, and arguably the greatest, of the Kims – Kim Possible – was taken down. The young woman had been a thorn in her side the entire past two years, and proved harder to kill than a New York cockroach. Time after time the infuriatingly elusive redhead slipped through her clutches.

Today would see that end.

The catsuited woman moved in a straight line for the base's entryway with a casual sashay, her long cape billowing behind her. When she came to the first of the two decrepit military vehicles she altered her path not one iota. Instead she reached out her left hand and, with seemingly no more effort than flicking a fly, flipped the sixteen ton vehicle out of her way and onto its back _with but a twist of her wrist!_

The Supreme One _never_ deviates for _anybody_ or _anything_. _Nothing_ must stand in _her_ way. Instead _all_ shall give way before _her._

A bump with her booted toe sent the second six-by-six skidding about on its wheels, the dried out rubber protesting. When she came to the shredded remains of the blast doors she did not even bow her head to avoid the sharp ragged edges. Called forth, her glow's power – of which she had learned ever more tricks over the years – enveloped her entire body. The jagged metal bent away from her form as she sauntered through in search of those that sought to elude her… .

Down below, those remaining dozen people, and mole-rat, all paused momentarily at the closeness of the latest exchange of gunfire. Even as it continued to echo along the transit tube, Kim turned to survey the faces about her. They were being whittled away. "Mr B… Yori… Zita…," she pointed, unable to finish the order.

There was no need.

The rest of the group resumed the press onward with the four-thousandth hyper-evolved clone of a Rufus resuming point. "It was an honor to have known and served under you. Godspeed," the idem of the man she had known most of her school years barked in full military mode. With the most stiff-backed drawn-to-full-height salute he could pull off, he waited until the redhead returned it just as formally before jogging back up the tracks to where a subway car sat immobile, jumped from the rails.

"_Sim."_ … _"Hai, _Kim_-chan,"_ the two women acknowledged before turning to where their boyfriend waited with open arms. Embracing each other tightly, the _ménage à trois_ shared gentle loving kisses and soft tearful whispers. Not her intention to intrude or eavesdrop, Kim nonetheless could hear things like _Spanish Rose, Lotus Blossom, _and_ Monkeyshine_ before they broke apart, each suddenly instilled with the strength of the other two. Hand and hand the young women ran back to where the gunnery sergeant had climbed into the car.

The sounds of warfare from farther up the line had gone silent. The enemy was gaining on them way too fast. They only had to follow, while Kim's group had to take precious time at security checkpoints for Freedman to do his thing.

After a shared look, for _I'm sorry_ was too… insufficient… a sentiment to put in words right then, the companions moved on. Kim Possible had to wonder if she was worth the faith these people placed in her, and humbled by the obvious answer from their actions. The tunnel bent to the left once again. Another station platform lay up ahead and the pair of woman and teen waved them on upon seeing them… .

Having pried the door in the forward end of the subway car half open, Stephen Barken had just finished carefully setting up his barrel-mounted tripod Minimi M249, a spare customized five-hundred round box of belt ammo to the left and his M-16 laid to his right, when the lead edge of the Supreme One's forces turned the far bend. With a prolonged yell he pulled the trigger and never let up.

The three generals leading the assault flung themselves low and to opposite sides of the tube as hell was rained over their heads. The air filled with smoke, explosions, and debris as the ammo belt had an eclectic mix of tracer, incendiary, and high-energy explosive shells interspersing the regular. However in less than a minute the leaden hailstorm stopped as all five hundred rounds had been depleted. It was not much of a respite as Barken was fast in his change of ammo boxes, and in less than thirty seconds opened up again to mow even more of them down.

"Cannon fodder indeed!" yelled Lipskin from the center of the tracks. "This expenditure of life is inexcusable!"

From where she lay to his left behind a couple torn bodies of troopers, Bonnie called back, eyes narrowed but not about to lift her head to impale him with them, "Are you _criticizing_ the Supreme One?"

"Yeah Blue Boy!" added the dark-skinned woman across the tracks. "You'd best be careful, y'knows you're already on thin ice with her over the Probable Incident!"

This time they were ready when the firestorm ended. Bonnie popped her head and arm over the sheltering corpse and, with the same proficiency she showed up in the courtyard, squeezed off a single between-the-eyes shot. Barken slumped over his weapon.

The generals and soldiers barely had time to dust themselves off before the coordinated pair of co-lovers swept from either side of the tram car to plunge amidst them with the fearlessness of the condemned. Yori wielded the Lotus Blade, Zita a pair of _tessen_ war fans gifted her by the other. The partners slashed wildly high and low, giving no quarter and expecting none from lackeys of the Supreme One.

The Japanese girl moved with the unpredictable motions of _Yojinobori Saru, Scrambling Monkey,_ a style in which one's feet rarely touched the ground once engaging opponents. She kicked from one soldier to another and even utilized the walls where available, her long _katana_ piercing chests and taking heads with abandon. The Brazilian's dance-like _Capoeira_ style kept her head mostly low to the ground where her fans slashed left and right while her feet kicked high. As a team they were truly impressive, racking up dozens of kills each within minutes, the battle against overwhelming numbers nearly of Hollywood-epic proportions.

The moment their backs touched, however, both knew they had reached the end. With no more room to maneuver without risking the other's life, they were easy targets for the brunette and black generals' precision aims.

"Well, what're you goofs waiting for?" railed the mousy-haired woman. _"Go after them!_ We've almost caught up!"

When the majority of the faces expressed weariness, Moanique jump-started their motivations with a quiet, "You know, by now the Supreme One's on her way down here expecting results." The still mobile and less critically wounded of the army surged about them with renewed vigor. The two women leaders remained to 'deal with' the less fortunate… .

Kim and Ron followed several paces behind the woman and other redhead, all racing to catch up to the group. Shots began to ping the walls about them as the leading soldiers gained on them. "Keep going!" shouted the young woman, spinning about to level her M-16 on the pursuers.

The blond boy had just rounded the corner where the corridor T'ed into another when she was hit. Stunned and spun about by the impact, several more riddled her body, sending the rifle flying along with the hand which held it, shredding and separating huge hunks of her away.

The redheaded hero did not know which surprised her more. That she was hit, or that she had failed everyone.

As her body hit the floor she could hear Ron cry out as if from a long ways off, _"She's dead! Kim Possible is dead!"_ Followed a moment latter by _"Bastaaaarrrrrdddds__‼" _and automatic fire whizzing past her sight, frozen on the ceiling.

A seeming eternity later her best friend's worried face stared into hers. "Kim," she could barely hear him but was uncertain if it was because she was dying or just from the loudness of the gunfire. Relieved that she was in fact not dead, the boy gripped her under the arms to pull her to safety, "Hang on KP! I'll get you to safety!"

"Aahhrrhh‼" she cried out in agony. "No, Ron… go on, I…I'm… done…," she gasped, looking up into a face flowing more tears than when he parted from his lovers.

"No… No Kim… it can't end like this!" he shook his head. "We need you!"

"N…n…no… n…nee on…only…," she gestured to the side with the stump of her arm where her right hand lay, "D…D…N…, th… ot…ther on…one… ." He shook his head, barely able to see through his tears and breaking heart. "G…o…, I…I lov…," her voice choked off as she was wracked with pain. _"Go__‼__"_

With a wail of anguish so primal it sounded simian, Ron rolled across the body of his best friend since Pre-K, who stupidly had to wait until her dying moments to admit her true feelings for him. Snatching up her severed hand he scampered low to the floor under the Tweebs' mindlessly aimed torrent of bullets. At that moment the Supreme One's forces rallied themselves enough to return fire.

A much greater stream of projectiles painted the wall behind them with holes the color of their own blood, the huge twins a-dance, unable to fall so long as the hailstorm continued. Even the blond Monkey Master was ripped apart. His last act before his life fled was to throw the bloody hand into the corridor he almost had gained, where Rufus 4000 stood with eyes wide.

Snatching up the grisly mass of vital DNA in his teeth, he did something most hyper-evolved naked mole-rats were loath to do.

Run on all fours.

"Come on Rufus!" The barrel-chested Wade yelled from inside the opened room at the end. Suddenly the four-foot thick vault-like door began to swing close. The black giant turned, _"What are you doing?"_

Dr Gordon Freedman's eyes were wide with fear, "They're almost on us!"

"Rufus-4K is still out there!" he snatched the thin older man by the shoulders, "He has _Possible's DNA!"_

"He can make it!"

"Stop the door!" Wade shook him. The heavy door _tinged_ with gunfire.

"He'll make it!"

The cloned rodent squeezed into the rapidly dwindling space. Scampering as fast as he could, he quickly realized had he been an exact duplicate of his smaller namesake he indeed would have made it. However his chest, having been enhanced to allow larger lungs, diaphragm, and vocal apparatus to endow him with speech, made his form much too large. He spat the hand through the tight space. "Here! Godspee…_eeeeeeeeeek__‼‼__"_

The horrendous screeching squawk and crushing of bones was cut short by the _thoomb!_ of the vault sealing tight. Ann threw a hand to her mouth, turning to empty her stomach in a nearby corner.

Wade picked the scrawny scientist up by the front of his shirt. _"MURDERER__‼__"_ he yelled in his face at the top of his impressive lungs. He threw the man against a wall, where he slid to the floor. Wade pointed at him, "You. Don't. Move." The large genius spared a moment's silence for the latest of them to fall. Rufus 4000 had time and again proven himself a valuable asset, and while all in the Resistance accepted the possibility of death, that was no way for anyone to die.

He looked about, taking in first the other surviving members of the defunct resistance, then the hermetically sealed lab. Three walls were lined with complex looking machines and consoles, the forth was half glass looking onto another chamber; a cubical space with two large conical structures, one rising from the floor, the other from the ceiling.

"We got the genny hooked up," the woman with long raven-black tresses turned. "Systems are booting, and according to the notes you provided should be online in seven min." Her redheaded companion was sitting in one of the monitoring seats, nearly catatonic, muttering repeatedly, "All is lost… all is lost… ." …

The Supreme One had finally made it to where Kim Possible's shattered body lay rapidly draining of life. She rushed for the first time in a long while as soon as she saw the broken redhead. Kneeling, she felt at the younger woman's throat for a pulse.

_Still alive!_

If barely.

"Kim," she spoke, almost tenderly, slapping the other's face. _"Kim Possible!_ Come on Kimmie, I know you. You're too stubborn to die just yet."

The eyelids of the broken form fluttered half open. Matching green eyes locked. "Su…Supre… Onnn…," Kim rasped.

A chuckle, "Come now, I think you can use my name."

"…yu… lo…lo…st tha… right…," blood bubbled on her lips. There was not much time left.

Straddling her, the Supreme One leaned over until their noses nearly touched. "You know, different circumstances and you could have been me."

The hero looked into the time-weathered mirror image of her own face. With every strength left in her body she spat a bloody wad in the other redhead's face. It hit the left cheek just under the matching olive eye. "…I'l… ne…ver be… uuu… ."

Having already risked the girl dying before she could do it herself and thereby absorb her energy, the older Kim sighed. Reaching out a white and blue covered hand she snapped the aberration's neck.

"You're right about that. You'll _never_ be me… ."

All about the corridor energy began to build up. Lightening-like coronal discharges played about the walls, floor and ceiling. What lights still worked shattered one by one. The concrete underfoot cracked. Most of the discharges were localized between the forms of the two women. The generals stood back, having seen this time and again.

The Supreme One sat up, tossing back her waist-long mane of red hair, arms spread wide. Her pose on Kim's body reminiscent of a sexual position, the frequency and intensity of the energy transfer increased. When the thinnest of streamers connected them by the mouth, a low passionate moan slipped from her lips. It built into a cry of sheer orgasmic ecstasy as Kim Possible's life force grew in thickness and strength until both crescendoed, then swiftly dissipated.

For long moments the Supreme One held that pose, as if waiting for something more.

"_**NO**__**‼**__**"**_ she cried, her voice now reverberating with nearly untold power. **"Something's wrong! With the last of the Kims I was to be a **_**GOD!"**_ With a frown she concentrated, testing the _Æ__ther._ **"There's another! **_**But how?"**_

The white and blue catsuited redhead stood with an ease almost akin to levitation. **"I personally killed every Kim possible… with the… exception of…,"** slow realization dawned on her features.

"**With the exception of **_**Kim Probable…!"**_ she spun angrily about to face her blue-skinned general who, due to the vagaries of crosstime, was the same age as her. _**"Lipskin**__**‼"**_ The scrawny general shivered in fear, his eyes casting about for an escape from the woman's building fury, which was becoming nearly tangible in the enclosed area. Bonnie and Moanique surreptitiously stepped away from his vicinity.

"**You told me: She. Was. **_**DEAD!"**_ the red glow of her chi power snapped to life, her hair so energized it stood out away from her body. She stalked close to the traitor. **"Disintegrated! An accident, Is what. You. **_**SAID!"**_

Suddenly filled with the fatalism encountered by the thousands of doomed resistance fighters who had gone to their deaths willingly, and with great conviction, Drew Lipskin finally found his backbone. He stood straight for one of the few times in his life and stared his death in the eyes with a sneer. "That's right! _It was no accident._ I let her go. Sent her away with my lieutenant and faked their deaths. It might have cost the lives of nearly my entire regiment, but it was worth it!"

"**Why Drew?"** she asked, abruptly ever so calm. A tone those closest to her knew to fear.

"You're kidding, right?" he returned. "There's a reason why the multiverse exists, but more importantly, a reason why it's populated with so many idems of everyone. The human brain requires thousands of synapses to process one thought. It can afford to lose a few without danger to the entire organism. However the more synapses that get fried, the greater the chance of inducing a stroke. What you're doing is nothing short of risking the life of the universe. Should you ever be the sole representation of your strain of idems, the universe could be destroyed!"

"**Oh** plea**se!"** scoffed the older Kim, moving closer. Her voice was losing its reverberant quality from the initial high of the power up, **"You're a** _Mi__**nd of God**__dist?_ **Th**at drivel do**es**n't even make any sense!"

"You subscribe to the belief _you'll_ become a god, so why is it so far fetched?" he shot back.

She waved a dismissive hand, "Whatev's. Now how was it I was unable to sens…," she looked back at Kim Possible's body. "Of course. You sent her to stay as close to Possible as possible. It might have increased my ability to sense them, but not how many. For once, clever."

Now close enough, the redhead reached out her glowing hand and clamped it to the top of his head. Stiffening in a silent scream, his limbs quivered as if in seizure. Eyes rolled back, red energy streaming from them, his mouth, ears, and every large orifice in his body, and still she held on to him. She focused energy into him until within seconds his skeleton was incandescent, visible through blue flesh and white uniform. Hair curled and frizzled, skin dried, charred, and crinkled. Steam and the odor of cooking meat rose from him, and still she poured enough power into him to boil an elephant. Only after a full minute did she release him. The corpse fell onto its back with a meaty thud, the skeleton still energized to incandescence shattering like glass.

Cape swirling, the Supreme One pivoted dismissively from the duplicitous general. "So, where are they?"

Not that it was required under these circumstances, but taking no chances her displeasure might seek another target, both brunette and chocolate-skinned generals fell to one knee before her, a fist resting on the floor to support them, looking no higher than her ankles.

"Supreme One, Magnificent Mistress," Bonnie spoke. If there was one thing she knew, it was kissing up. She had learned it in her youth from everyone who had wanted favors from the Rockweller family, and having taken it as the _Kissee,_ it was easy for her to dish it out as the _Kisser._ Especially if it kept her alive. "The last of them have sealed themselves in a lab at the end of the corridor behind a steal door easily three to five feet thick."

"Hmm," The Supreme One considered the options. Glancing at the highly perforated body of Kim Possible she mused that Lipskin, who had taken point from the other two, must have given the order to shoot her down. A desperate attempt to steal from her the opportunity to deliver the deathblow herself and deprive her of being receptacle to the younger woman's life-force, instead of it dissipating upon the _Æther. _So while _on the one_ _hand_ she could not entirely fault her troopers for following orders, _on the other hand_ all knew her explicitly stated standing orders concerning Kims.

She _could_, therefore, fault them for not following _her_ orders.

"Have the troops work on cutting through. And set explosives."

"Yes, Magnificent Mistress!" both said in practiced unison, then rose to convey the orders. The relieved soldiers moved in double-time. The smarter of them had also reasoned on their culpability in the mortal wounding of the Supreme One's idem, but figured that since she still managed to collect the energy she sought and, having vented her ire upon the traitorous general, forgiven them. At the very least, in her desire to get at the Last Kim, she had forgotten them. So it was that none of them noticed the white and blue catsuited woman quietly hold back her remaining generals and a few they selected as not among the shooting party… .

Inside the lab, the powerful portable generator built by Wade and the Possible Twins was powering nearly everything with the exception of the Anti-Mass Spectrometer in the other chamber. It, however, was powered by something called the Lambda Core which was still putting out power. It only needed the control room's systems to channel it into the AMS.

"What's this going to do again Nerdlinger?" the ravenhead asked again.

"Once I load in the programs and mods compiled from everything we could find in other lines, this device will perform a controlled resonance cascade which will open an adjunct to a parallel timeline." the giant computer geek responded absently while he worked.

"Right, like we don't have enough timeline problems to deal with."

"You know the difference. Paratime has an orderly parallel structure, unlike chaotic crosstime. We have to launch from the Themis Universe because between Kims Possible and Probable, this was the only facility in any semblance of working order."

She sounded skeptical, "And there's more Kim Possibles in this new set of brave new worlds?"

"An infinite number of them," the computer whiz nodded. "More than enough to be able to handle the Supreme One."

"Still sounds dangerously theoretical to me." She cocked a questioning eyebrow, "And Possible's DNA was for…?"

"For priming the aperture device's seek functions." Ann had recovered enough to handle, if with great distaste, her daughter's hand. Intellectually she knew she was in shock about Kim's death and running on autopilot, but if there was to be any hope for restoring the _Combined Crosstimes Consortium,_ she could not afford to slow down. She had been working at a station across the room. "Okay, that's it," Ann hefted what looked like a small flip cellphone. "The aperture device's targeting system has been calibrated with…," she choked briefly, "…the proper DNA."

"I'm sorry Mrs Dr Possible," Wade started uneasily, "She was the bravest woman I'd ever known. The bravest and greatest of any of the Kims."

The woman's lips tried to smile, but if her rimming eyes were any indication, it would be a while before they ever would again. She spoke with a vehemence, "It's vital her sacrifice not be in vain."

"Then it falls to us to complete the mission. Time to crank this sucker up," the other woman cracked her knuckles… .

Outside in the corridor, once most of the Supreme One's forces, the ones she had neither forgiven nor forgotten, were busily working on setting large yield charges at the vault-like door, she stepped out into the T-junction where the idems of her tweeby brothers had made their last stand.

Cupping her hands with widely splayed fingers in front of her chest, she marshaled her power. Once an initial fuzzily glowing ball formed, she started the focusing mantra that would summon forth more. The difference between the energies she was about to unleash, compared to what she used to fry Drew Lipskin, was the difference between a match and a flamethrower.

"_KAaaaaaa'MEeeeeee…,"_ the ball of chi sharpened it's boundaries, no longer fuzzy, but as defined as a bowling ball. The men and women of her forces looked about, suddenly realizing the fate about to befall them.

"…_HAaaaaaa'MEeeeeee…,"_ the sphere expanded to twice its girth as visible chi power was drawn from the surroundings and the very air, the red glow intensifying to the point its brilliance dispelled all shadows in the hallway except for what it itself cast of the redhead's body. Bonnie and Moanique already had their welder's mask quality darkened glasses in place. Some of the soldiers dared to open fire on the woman, but the growing powerball both attracted and incinerated the bullets.

"…_**HHHHAAAAAAAA‼‼‼"**_

With a shoving gesture, the redheaded woman released the pent up power the length of the corridor. It was as if, were she a spotlight, the red energy was her beam. Or perhaps a human laser.

Removing their arc-shades, the two generals whistled at what their mistress had wrought. The hallway was scoured clear of any and all debris, including the paint on the walls. Certainly nothing human remained. They were uncertain where the beam had stopped. Not at the door, that much was certain as they could see the lab beyond where it had been mounted, the wall past it, several chambers further on, and a good portion of the mountain the complex was carved into.

Not that they were at all surprised by the display. On the few timelines, including this one, where the alien Lorwardians attempted to invade, they had watched as the Supreme One _Kamehameha'ed_ the crafts out of orbit from the ground.

"_WADE!"_ Ann cried in the aftermath of the beam's passage. He had been on his way to discuss something with Freedman, and thus immediately behind the door at the crucial moment. The black scientist's eyes were wide with how close he had come to being hit as well.

"Time to go!" the dark haired woman steered the redheaded teenager from the chair she had been sitting in and for the door between the chambers where stood a swirling upright disk in the air at the Anti-Mass Spectrometer's focal point. "Come on Ann!"

The older Possible threw the hand-held portal device across the room before bending to retrieve one of the guns scattered about. She caught it easily. The two locked eyes, olive and blue. Each nodded in understanding. _"This is for my Kimmie, you BITCHES!"_ the normally genteel surgeon screamed, opening fire. She only got off seven shots before she was riddled with effectively selective return fire, one between the eyes included.

The ravenhead paused in closing the adjoining door as the white and blue catsuited Kim sauntered into the lab, followed by her minions, "You heartless _bitch!_ You killed Kim's mom!"

An indifferent shrug, _"Ce que sera," Whatever(will be),_ "Wasn't _my_ mother… . You've lost Lieutenant. Surrender my idem. It's time for me to become God."

"Never, bitch!" she slammed the door and gave the locking wheel a good spin. Then she welded it with a blast of green plasma. Just as soon as she had, the metal started to glow red, but she knew they had a few moments as the other dared not unleash another _Kamehameha,_ even if she was rejuvenated enough to do so. That much raw power would incinerate all in the chamber, and she would not have her beloved final step to godhood.

"Kimmie!" she slapped the unresponsive girl's face a few times. "Time to snap out of it!" when that failed, she leaned in and kissed the redheaded teen. Deeply and with feeling. Once she felt the girl respond in kind, she pulled apart.

"Shégo?" the teen blinked. "What's going on?"

The pale green woman pointed to the floating disk. From the front it looked for all the world like the eye of a tornado laying on its side, but from the backside it was virtually invisible. "Time to go! We've a mission to complete!" She shoved two devices into her hands. "The portal opener and Possible's old PDA Kimmunicator. Wade wasn't sure if it will actually, y'know, 'Kimmune', but its data area is loaded with all the information and tutorials you'll need, plus he's reasonably certain it will be able to piggy back on any existing Kimmunicator cellphone lines."

"What's the use? She's dead Shégo. Kim Possible's dead!" Kimmie shook her head.

"Look, I know you had a serious, if kinda spooky, girl crush on her," the former minion tipped her chin up to look her in the eyes. "She'd _want you_ to complete it."

The redhead shook her head, "There's no hope left. The mission's _nothing_ without Kim Possible!"

Shégo shook her former part-time nemesis by the shoulders, "Kitten, snap out of it!" She pointed at the portal, "Through there's _every_ hope!" The door's locking mechanism falling off with a _clang_ said time had run out. She shoved the girl towards the aperture.

"Through there's _every_ Kim Possible!"

The last thing Kim Probable saw as she stumbled backwards into the swirling dimensional portal was her girlfriend, hands glowing green, tossing plasma at all the delicate equipment in the AMS chamber… .

* * *

**Notes**: Well, here is yet another result of an _Evil Nazi Plotbunny._ The nature of the multiverses involved, there are at least two, will be explained as we go along. Yes, technically, objectively, and by definition ALL aspects of different multiverses are in fact ONE _Multi-_verse. The differences, for the purposes of EKP, is to be found in the subjective method of travel between them… ah, more will be explained next chapter and as we go along.

This chapter started in the Crosstime Multiverse™®. It is very similar to that of Jet Li's _The One,_ as is the basic motivations of the Supreme One. One vital difference though is that the energy of the idems, or alternate selves, are not shared between them. Instead the gathering of energy is closer to that of _Highlander._ Also like _The One,_ the idems have different names, which for the major part is limited mostly to their last names, such as Possible/Probable, Lipsky/Lipskin, Rockwaller/Rockweller, etc. That's not to say I won't get creative now and then, like with Moanique. Oh, and yes, Rufus _4__000_ was not a typo.

The _crossline_ seen in this chapter was NOT the canon one from the show. It was almost identical right up until, as noted, graduation when the invasion should have happened, but was put down before it could start. As for the idems of familiar faces, I had a little fun with some of them. The interaction between Betty and Sheldon came from out of a pleasant nowhere, and I've particularly became enamored with Ron's triad. I've always fancied Zita as a runner up for Ron's affections, after Yori. The girls' fight scene was filled with plenty of potential, so I just might carry that relationship into one or two of my other fics. I did not spend much time with any of these characters as the point was for everyone to die in order to emphasize how ruthless the Supreme One and her oppression is.

Oh! As I was writing EKP it spawned a side-quel, or companion, story to take place while this one goes on, fully set in the crosstime lines. If you love Tara, you won't want to miss it, so keep an eye out for _Tara Royalé!_

Chapter One is longer than my usual target lengths of about 6000 words, but there was just no place to properly break the story, and I wanted this origin to be complete. If you haven't already noticed, Kim Probable is _not_ a redress of Kim Possible with a different name, there is a major deviation in personality as well. Rest assured while this is only the beginning, it is not just the story of Kim Probable, but indeed the story of _Every Kim Possible…_

Enjoy the ride.


	2. Busing a Move

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kim Possible. She and related characters are owned by Disney and Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley. As this is a Multiverse story, any variations in established or original characters are my treatment and belong to me unless otherwise noted in the closing notes. At any rate it is best to ask me who to get permissions from. Otherwise hands off. Okay?

**Every Kim Possible**

Chapter Two – _Busing a Move_

The last thing the girl saw as she stumbled backwards into the swirling dimensional portal was her girlfriend, hands glowing green, tossing plasma at all the delicate equipment in the chamber about her. The scene was swiftly lost from sight, tunneled away as quickly as sunlight while plummeting into a deep well. Except what she was falling through was a tunnel of swirling and sparkling grey light. She had just a moment to think, _This must be what it looks like to be flushed down a drain… ._

Twisting and tumbling about as supra-dimensional energies whirled around her, the redhead automatically reoriented as if in a free-falling skydive, extremely gratified para-temporal transitioning was less chaotic, grueling, and painful than the cross-temporal quantum tunneling she was used to.

However it was still not a walk through the park. None of her senses agreed with each other. Her inner ear telling her she was plummeting at a rate of thousands of feet per second while her eyes hardly registered inches per minute. The dichotomy was disconcerting at best.

Then without warning her progression was impeded by something. Some sort of invisible membrane which simultaneously felt as solid as a safety net, as diaphanous as gossamer, and as yielding as a thin sheet of plastic wrap.

Still unable to see anything with her eyes, her body – her entire nervous system – could feel the barrier distending, stretching across her skin, for all the worlds feeling it would give way any second…

* * *

_I can't believe I actually agreed to this!_ the woman dropped her face in a hand and tried to swallow down her irritation. _I had forgotten how much of a hell being good is… ._

"Have I told you how nice it is to have you with us once again, Miss Go?"

"'Ms', Steve," she corrected, not for the first time. Once again she was in her schoolmarm identity and clothing. "I go by _Ms_ Go these days." _Miss Go was an insipidly fluffy, Donna Reed wannabe side of me I'd rather never see the light of day again._

Steve Barkin tossed her a look over his shoulder from where he sat behind the steering wheel of the aging school bus. It was one which said he desperately wanted to renew the relationship he thought they almost got off the ground six months ago. _Whatever was I thinking of anyway, running to her school like a love-struck tween? That she would protect me?_ The thought made the pale green woman grimace slightly. _Hell of it was, she did a damn fine job of it, and we had a great time together. _

_Well, up until the doofus brought it to an end… _

The memory of that distant week invoked strong if conflicting emotions within her. She loved and hated – and missed – the time they spent together when her most secret and deeply buried girly-girl self had been unlocked by the Attitudinator's reverse polarization…_ so what'm'I thinking, coming back _this_ time… ?_

_Okay, where is 'Miss Pris'? _memories of her search for the teen hero a fortnight ago rose unbidden, _Great__…__ I was banking on Kimmie to do her 'save the world' thing._

…_Because she asked me to, _Shego answered herself.

Kim's voice floated up from two weeks back, still quite smug. _See? You _do_ care!_

_Dammit, I guess I really do._

As the perennial substitute teacher-slash-coach returned his attention back to navigating the country road, Shego turned hers to the rest of the passengers. With the exception of Stoppable, Barkin, and of course herself, the school bus was full of teenaged girls. Most wearing the uniforms of Middleton cheerleaders, all of them filled with boundless cheery energy.

"_Go Mad Dogs… Go Go Maaad Dooogs…‼"_

It was almost enough to make her turn evil again. Or at least not try so hard keeping it bottled inside.

Turning slightly, the former-as-far-as-anyone-knew thief watched the passel of girls which, taken as a whole, were getting on the same nerve she reserved for her brothers. Hercule especially. At the far back was the sidekick. The blond, wearing a sweater in the school colors of blue with red trim, sat between two girls; one Japanese, the other a dark-skinned Hispanic. Of Brazilian decent if she was any judge. Shego had been observing the trio's interactions the past couple days. She had to wonder exactly what the deal was since he and Kim were supposed to be a couple, and yet the two girls seemed quite territorial concerning him. Certainly there was a smolder to their eyes anytime the redhead was in his vicinity.

_United against the common enemy._ The Latina, supposedly taking in everything with a camcorder for posterity, seemed at times just shy of spontaneous combustion._ And of course both the Princess' and the buffoon's obliviousness only makes them madder._

_M – A – D… D – O – G…_

After an empty row, which was between each occupied set, the next forward were occupied by a set of twins, one to either side of the aisle. Tall, blonde, and Nordic, their accents marked the stately beauties as second or third generation Swedish. Apparently one of the rare times ever together, they playfully batted back and forth a red balloon with the foaming-at-the-mouth faces of their Pep Puppies mascots without missing a beat of the team cheer. The next occupied row up had the other First String redhead and a dark-haired girl who was her near constant companion, obviously a couple to anyone bothering to notice. Across the aisle an olivine, curly-haired brunette who hardly ever offered one of her fake smiles spoke mainly in monosyllables with the red, yet seemed intent on ignoring the raven bench-mate

_That's how we spell, Vic – Tor – Eee‼_

Then a bubbly blonde with bright turquoise eyes sitting next to another black-haired girl of such classic Romani beauty and poise as to warrant the term 'noirette'. Across from them was the acerbic brunette who styled herself as the school's Queen – complete with Homecoming tiara – and Kim's Arch-nemesis, High School Division. She almost made the woman nostalgic, but whether for her own school days or early evil career, Shego was unsure which.

"_Go Mad Dogs… Go Go Maaad Dooogs…‼"_

Across the aisle from the green woman sat the teen hero's best female friend, Monique. Apart from those in the back row, the mocha-colored girl was the only classmate not wearing one of the cheer squad's heavier, long-sleeved outfits, which apparently she had designed in anticipation for the upcoming competition. Like the two girls Bogarting Ron's time, she was not chanting along. However she showed her school spirit by laughing and clapping along with the rest, thoroughly enjoying herself.

"_Go Mad Dogs… Go Go Maaad Dooogs…‼"_

Kim herself was moving up and down the aisle, easily keeping her balance despite the bumps and swaying motion of the vehicle, leading the cheer.

"_We're Number One‼"_

_Of course you are. With _you_ driving the fussily complex routines, how can y'all be anything less? _Shego smiled. Not her normally snarky smirk_, _nor one of the freely innocent grins of Miss Go, but rather an honest one somewhere in between.

"Excellent ladies!" the cheer captain applauded. "We're virtually guaranteed Worlds' Gold. Nice to see that extraterrestrial trouble's a No Big for us." She moved to the forward white line and dropped her voice, "Mr B, some of the girls are talking about needing to go. How soon before our next rest stop?"

"Tell them to stick a cork in it, Possible. The next rest stop is less than fifteen miles ahead, which at the road's legal speed-limit translates into an easy thirty minutes. There they can _pit and piss_ to their hearts' content. For forty minutes that is," the burly teacher replied, making no attempt to lower or modulate his deep voice. "Think they can choke it that long?"

Kim grinned. They were on their way to Orlando, Florida where _Wally World_ was once again hosting the annual _Cheerleading World_ event where they were enrolled for the _International All-Girls_ competitions. Despite being already graduated they were still eligible since not all schools around the globe held to the same school year as the majority of American regions, not to mention postponed due to the worldwide Lorwardian Invasion. "I think they can pull thirty minutes on their heads."

Considering who he was talking to, the driver shot back with irritation, "Just see to it they _don't_ do it on their heads, Possible. Vehicular-slash-passenger safety is ever first!"

"No worries, Mr B." She turned and relayed the information to the rest. The news was met with cheers.

As the others started up a fun driving song, Kim sat briefly with her dark-skinned friend. They chatted quietly and quite animatedly for a few moments before the other, with mischievously shining eyes which seemed at times seeing things no one else could, firmly shooed her across the aisle. Finally, with a soft sigh of exhaustion, the redhead plopped herself down next to the green woman. She grinned with infectious charm, "Hi! Miss me?"

"I don't know how I ever survive the minutes we're apart," the woman rolled eyes, crossing legs and smoothing her slightly higher than proper skirt. Even though looking as sweet as Miss Go, _Ms Go's_ tongue and wit was ever Shego-sharp. It at least kept Dear Old Stevie off balance and at bay. "What, your BFF tiring of you?"

Shooting a guarded glance to the other side of the bus, where the other girl waved back cheerfully, Kim replied, "What, Monique? Oh! No! She just insists that since you're my specially invited guest I should spend most of my time with you, is all."

"I see." _Bless you sweetheart!_ "How soon before we stop for the night?"

The teenager's grin was infectious, "Little Rock is only about two and a half hours ahead, not including forty minutes at the upcoming rest stop."

"Great! I could seriously use a shower and stretch out on a real bed." The reason for every other row being empty was in case anyone wanted to layout for a catnap. Which, as far as the pale green woman was concerned, was okay for battle conditions, but seriously not cool for vacation situations. Considering what she had gotten used to during her years in villainy, she was practically slumming. "Perhaps even a swim if they have a pool."

Quite possibly the last chance the teenagers would have together as a whole, the group was making a grand adventure out of the road trip, the town contributing to front the costs in gratitude to Team Possible's literally saving the world. They were already into the second afternoon of a three day drive. While the trip could have been driven straight through in a little under thirty hours, it had been decided to turn it into a _Last Hurrah_ vacation before the realities of post-high-school were due to set in. To this end Wade had put together for them a route that more often than not included scenic 'roads less traveled'. So it was the aging school bus was winding its way along a practically deserted stretch of Route 10 west of Williams Junction, the sun playing peek-a-boo with the shade through thick Arkansas woods lining both sides.

"I'm sorry there'll be no one of Midas' talents for you to engage," Kim chuckled.

Shego grinned back. _Even without reverse polarizing, it's amazing how well we get along when not trying to kick each other's head in._ "I think I'll live."

"I'm glad you took me up on the invitation to join us, Shego." Kim was the only one allowed to address 'Ms Go' by her 'first name', something the woman put a stop to even Ron doing.

The ravenhead shrugged indifferently, "What was I to do? This is better than sitting around fighting off Dr D's freaky vine."

"Still frisky eh?" the redhead smirked, remembering the uncomfortable look on Shego's face when it wrapped itself around her and the blue-skinned former villain on national television. "Isn't a flower like, the sex organs of… ."

"Ack! _Yes!_ Stop reminding me! He claims it has a mind of its own, but I think it's the same mentality as the run-of-the-mill below-the-belt male appendage. It just has more mobility," Shego shivered, "and a greater reach."

Kim patted the woman's arm consolingly, "Sorry. I remember how I felt when I realized it had been all over me too. So I guess this is as good an excuse to getaway as any, huh?"

"Yeah. Besides, if I hang out with you long enough," _We might grow _really_ close,_ "sooner or later something exciting is bound to happen."

"Think so, huh?"

"Please, you're a trouble magn… ."

"_GREAT CEASAR'S GHOST‼"_

The back end of the Chrome Yellow vehicle slid far to the left as Mr Barkin firmly hit the brakes, fighting the wheel for control. Everyone was tossed about as the Blue Bird All American Type-C battled physics and the conflicting directions of its frantic driver, fishtailing from side to side. Some of the cheerleaders spilled into the aisle. Some pressed against the windows _before_ being dumped into the center atop the others.

All were pitched forward.

"Oomphff" … "Hey!" … "Urk!" … "Yipe!" … "Ouch!" … "Ack!" … "Watch it will'ya?" rose the yells, yelps or indignant complaints.

"We're not wiping out _this time_ either‼"

The only voices not sounding amid the rest were those of the two adrenalin junkies in the front row right seats. Neither saw what was causing the problem, but neither needed to in order to swing into action. Perceptions already heightened into what movies call 'bullet time', the pair moved in a fashion only long-time partners – or equally matched enemies – are capable of. From the window seat, Shego flipped herself smoothly over the railing to land in the tight stairwell. Kim slipped just as easily into the aisle, which allowed her to beat her rival to the driver's side by only seconds.

The hands of both women gripped the steering wheel, lending their combined strength to the teacher's, supplementing without fighting him to keep the bus from swinging so far wide it would roll. Barkin concentrated on the task and not even Miss…err, Ms Go inadvertently flashing him, by swinging a well-shaped pale green leg around behind the teen to position a fashionable black pump against the driver side windowsill, distracted him.

Much.

The back end of the bus bumped up and down as locked tires loudly protested their treatment against the concrete paving. "C'mm'n Ol'Pete! _Hold'er together‼"_

Realizing she was one cook at the soup too many, Kim stepped back, grabbing the partition upright sectioning off the driver's area for support. Which gave her an excellent view of what was going on. Like a series of rapid photographs the teen hero took it all in as, with about only half a bus-length ahead of them, she could see a glassy wall across the highway.

Or was it?

Whatever the transparent barrier was, it appeared the very air was distorting. Stretching. Distending. Pulling to a point. Coming to a head.

"What the sitch!?"

It was as if the scenic vista were a true-sized panoramic three-dimensional picture on a sheet of vacu-forming plastic, a figure rapidly taking form in the middle of the road and threatening to burst through.

Which it did in the form of a girl.

A teenaged girl.

A redhead.

With a _highly _familiar face.

As the air wobbled, snapping back to normal behind her, the newcomer had less than a second to take in where she was. Two pairs of matching olive eyes locked together and widened – one in shock, the other in surprise – as the rapidly decelerating eight ton vehicle bore down on her.

The new redhead barely had time to turn, diving for flat, before she was lost to sight.

Someone screamed.

Seconds later the bus finally came to a halt.

"_Oh my god!"_ For long moments no one moved. "Is everyone okay?" Barkin barked.

"OMG, OOMWGF!" _Oh my God, out of my way girlfriend!_ Monique shoved past her shocked and unmoving friend whose mouth was still gaping from screaming. "Hurry, open the Door!"

Still sitting on the brief dashboard, not realizing the view her hitched skirt was offering, Shego reached out with right foot to kick the door control. The black girl was out like a shot. Yori was hot on her heels, having run from the back of the bus nimbly across the top of the benches, Ron only a few seconds lagging. He paused at his girlfriend's unmoving side to check her.

"KP?" he waved a hand in front her face with concern. "You okay?"

"Move it Stoppable, make way!" Barkin also barreled outside.

"She's okay Ron," the green woman started to climb down. "Go check outside."

"What's wrong with her?" he was panicked.

"She's fine, looks to be a bit of shock. I'll see to her."

"I'm not leaving her!"

"_Ronald!"_ the authoritative voice of Ms Go the Teacher snapped like a whip. "We just _ran someone over!_ Kimmie is fine. I'll see to her, _now go!"_

The blond took a second more to take in his girlfriend, then the condition of those in the rest of the bus over her shoulder, before it sunk in the reason for the disarray. A curt nod, a turn, and he cleared the short flight of steps in a bound.

"Augh!" a complaint floated to the top of overlapping and varied soft comments about whose what was in whose where as the clog of girls in the aisle worked to untangle. If not for the seriousness of possibly hitting someone, the green woman might have smiled more. Except for the bus setting, the pile of female limbs was familiar from the past week of practice sessions. "I don't yet know _how_, but I know this is somehow _your fault_ Kim!"

Shego climbed off the dashboard and moved in front of her friend. _Friend now is she? Yeah, at least. Strangely enough she's been the best friend I've had for a couple years now. More dependable than clockwork or family, and twice as mature as nearly everyone I know. If she was evil she'd be perfect…,_ "Cupcake?" she snapped fingers in front of the staring face. Her expression was one of having seen a ghost. "Sweetie, you okay?"

_Hmm, need to knock her out of this…,_ rearing her right arm back, she slapped the teenager's face hard, braced for the expected outcome of... .

Kim spun, more than the blow accounted for, pivoting in place three-sixty to bring her left leg up tucked in a close-quarters kick, a growl low in her throat. With crossed wrists, Shego blocked the strike going for her stomach. It still stepped her back against the windshield. "Kim! Princess!" she cried, "Snap out of it!"

"Shego!" the redhead blinked. "What the hell was that for?"

"Needed to snap you back to reality."

"So you _hit_ me?"

The woman shrugged with her trademark smirk, "Nothing says I couldn't enjoy it."

"Could you two _please_ get a room?" Bonnie clambered over the last of the unpiling girls, half of whom were stretching out the kinks and pains. Zita, with ever-present camera, recorded everything. "I mean, if y're gonna do your waaay freaky girl love-hate thing, at least have the decency to do it in private."

"Bonnie…," Kim started, half turning before Shego cut her short.

"Not the time, Pumpkin. You might recall something about running something over?"

With it all suddenly flashing through her mind again as if for the first time, the redhead paled, "Oh my god! That was real!" She ran out without touching the steps.

The woman followed, "Would it be too much to ask for someone to tell me what? I had my back to it, missed it all… ."

They arrived outside, stepping up to near the front of the bus' rear wheels. The air was filled with the sharp tang of burnt rubber from very black lines seared into the roadway, dashes the last thirty feet or so where locked tires actually left the surface. The distinctive yellow vehicle was about fifteen degrees off-center, its back end partially on the opposing side of the two-lane highway. Thankfully the road was empty, apparently not many traversing Route 10 at that time of day.

Barkin and Ron were standing poised to help Monique, on her knees and looking underneath as Yori gently worked to ease a body out from underneath. Kim approached, unconsciously hugging herself tightly, Shego's presence at her shoulder strangely comforting.

"Easy girl! Try to keep her head and neck from rolling too much until we find out the extent of her injuries."

"I do not think she is seriously hurt, Barkin-_sensei,_ Monique-_chan,"_ the ninja-in-disguise continued to ease the figure out. The black girl supported the other's head, face obscured by a healthy mane of red hair, while Ron tugged carefully on her arms. "My initial assessment is she has fainted. I cannot find any indication of an impact of any kind. At least, nothing fresh which could have been cause by her close call."

"Close is the word for it, Miss Yamanouchi," the teacher rumbled gently, taking off his sweater vest and offering it to Monique. "Here Lapowsky. For a pillow. The school's insurance doesn't need another accident or lawsuit."

The rest of the cheerleaders crowded opened windows, watching with quiet but concerned comments between themselves as the limp form was cleared from under the bus. Monique knelt to carefully position the folded sweater to cushion the stranger's head from the hard ground. "Damp towel and some water!"

It took Tara and Hope less than a minute to toss out a white and blue Mad Dogs sports towel and two bottles. While Yori soaked the modest sized terry cloth, the fashion student gently brushed long strands of red aside, revealing the unconscious girl's face.

She gasped.

Yori and Barkin gasped.

Ron's mouth opened as he half recoiled, lifting up to one leg in shock.

Various sounds of surprise floated from the clustered squad in the windows.

All of which confirmed for Kim she had not suffered a stress-induced hallucination. From where she stood several paces away, she stated quietly, "She looks just like like me."

"Yeah she does, KP!"

"Possible, what's the meaning of this?"

"Oh great, you're multiplying again!" from over her head on the bus.

There on the road lay the teen hero's double. Even unconscious it was evident she was in distress of some kind as, like some sleeping dogs, her body quivered in response to stimuli only she could see behind closed lids. Emotions of pain and fear played across the familiar features; shoulders and arms jerking, legs twitching as if ready to flee. Whatever was going on in her mind's-eye, it was apparently a nightmare seeking to break into the light of day.

So absorbed in staring at her own face on a different person, Kim had not noticed Ron getting something from Zita, who had been videotaping from the rear window, until she heard _tak'fiiiiizzzzzz…_

Whirling about, the teenaged hero lashed out with a foot, her toe catching the inside of the blond's wrist, sending it – and a stream of soda from the can in his hand – wide of the prone redheaded doppleganger. He cried out, "Hey!" more in surprise than pain.

"Stoppable! Possible!" a soaked coach barked, "Explain yourselves and this collateral damage I've just suffered!"

"Ohh…, sorry there Mr B," Ron cringed, using a hand to shield his pointing surreptitiously at Kim as the true culprit, mouthing, _It's all her fault… ._

Monique looked up, "Think she might be another of those soda-clones?"

"I don't know yet Mo," Kim responded, but giving Ron a level gaze, "but if she is and we melt her, we'll have lost an opportunity to find out more."

"Yeah, right, I guess I wasn't thinking there KP."

"Nothing new there," Shego dropped to one knee to grab the girl's chin and gently move head side to side, examining with slitted eyes.

"Easy!" Monique objected. "We've already moved her more than we should given she could have more serious injuries!"

"Throttle it back there sister," the pale green teacher said calmly, opening a closed eyelid. "The Jap chick already said she was not obviously debilitated, and ninjas know enough about disabling a body to recognize injuries." She stood, smoothing out her short skirt while cutting off Yori's automatic denial of her true profession, "Save it, Madam Butterfly… if it is one of Dr Dees', its not his usual shoddy workmanship. She appears quite stable, if about four years younger, which _is_ typical of his impatience and rushing."

"So she might or might not be a Drakken creation," Kim crossed arms, unconsciously protecting her core being. "So we still have more questions than answers."

"Plus how did she get here?" Ron added. "And why?"

A shrug, "Jealousy? To mess with Kim? To get back at me for running out on him and his lecherous vine? I mean, with him who really knows? I don't. I gave up listening to everything to fall out of his mouth since Peru and the mind-control thing – and I wasn't too attentive even before _that."_

"I don't know if I fully understand how she got here," Kim turned to stare in the direction of the bus' nose, "but it does beg the question…,

"_Where_ did she come from?"

* * *

"_Where_ did she go‼?"

The blue and white catsuited redhead railed as she shook the crumpled pale green body hanging before her like a limp rag-doll. There was no response, no struggle. Those had stopped several minutes ago, but the brunette and chocolate-skinned generals knew better than to point that out. She was in the underground complex's cubical Anti-Mass Spectrometer chamber, surrounded by still smoking circuits, conduits, and machinery ruined by liberally applied green-hot plasma. The air was thick with the acrid tang of flash-fried and evaporated metals and other compounds.

Although none of the Shego strain had ever been able to best her, this particular idem had not been trying to fight. Instead she had bobbed and weaved, ducking and dodging her strikes and chi-blasts. It had taken the Supreme One several seconds to realize the green woman's true objectives lay in trashing the portal opening mechanisms rather than skirmishing. It took several more before she was able to put the other down. Ever stubborn like all her alternates, Shégo refused to talk, and even pumping chi into her until hair curled and crisped away did nothing to loosen the former lieutenant's tongue.

The Supreme One growled insensately, dropping out-stretched arm but not releasing the steely grip she had on the woman's neck. She stepped through the doorway separating chamber from control room before the forgotten body she effortlessly still dragged jerked her back around. It had gotten hung up on the lip of the bulkhead's sill. Letting go she barked, "Remove this!"

As white and blue-clad minions jumped to, dragging the dead weight from their mistress' sight as ordered, they passed a shivering black man near the door. The scientist, and as far as he could tell the sole remaining member of the Resistance, moved as little as possible where Wade had thrown him against the wall, all the while willing himself invisible. He was terrified as the Supreme One moved about in an obviously bad mood. Then her attention fell to him from across the room. She strode over, looking down from her imposing height, eyes virtually glowing with malevolence. "You! You're one of the ones with all the talking appliances, yeah?"

Frozen with fear, he answered with words alone, "Y…ye…yes. That's me. Dr Gordon Freedman."

"Freedman, Freeman, Freerman, Freesman… whatevs," she waved a hand as if at an annoying gnat. "Differences which make no difference _are_ no difference. What are you doing here Doctor? Besides the obvious of running with the Resistance I mean, because from what I briefly saw back in _Serpens Universe,_ you were there against your will."

"I…I…I was!" the terrified man exclaimed. "I wanted no part of the Re…resistance! I lo…love th…the New Or…order!"

"Calm down Doctor. I do not punish loyal subjects for any actions performed under duress or against their will." A smirk graced the redhead's lips. He supposed it was meant to be a reassuring smile, but the evilness radiating from the woman perverted any such purely beneficial expression. Thus the look was nothing remotely comforting. "Now, tell me, what were they hoping to accomplish?"

"I wasn't told much. They reckoned me for a weak link," the man tried to downplay his part, unaware the Supreme One's super-humanly enhanced senses granted her the ability to detect subtle bodily changes which indicated lying.

Something she kept from her face. "Where did Probable go?"

"To an alternate _Themis_ universe. One of an infinite number laid out side-by-side in parallel."

_That_ evoked a strong response which crossed the redhead's face briefly. Had Freedman not been so terrified himself he might have seen and recognized it for what it was… _Fear._ "To what purpose?"

"Something about finding another Kim Possible to stand against you."

The fear returned, stronger and longer before she was able to recompose her face. This time the black-skinned scientist saw it. She _saw_ the realization on his face. "Probable seeks to bring a new Possible, _here?"_

He nodded, all the more afraid for his life. He had seen the fear on the Supreme One's face, but worse yet, _she had seen that he saw… ._

"Mistress," Bonnie offered, "Shall we take forces and go after her?"

"_HOW, you ignorant BITCH!"_ the Supreme One spun angrily, spraying spittle in her general's face, who blinked but moved not an inch. Knowing flinches only angered her more, the mousy-haired woman was ready for whatever verbal or even physical abuse the redhead might dish out.

_After all, she can only kill me… . _

"The portal is _closed_ and all the machinery _destroyed!_ I'll wager _none_ of the original scientists can be re-gathered!"

"They can't," Freedman supplied, "All the original builders in this line were killed here in an incident some ten years ago. A designer germ or viral breakout is the most popular cover story across the cross-temporal analogues, but the Wades and Justines had dug up an alternative account of extra-dimensional aliens, which today gave credence to."

"I know that already!" the Supreme One ranted. "I know all this _junk_ formed some sort of aberrant adit, but that is what it all is now. _JUNK!_ Even if I could find the brightest minds or track down idems of the original builders, it could take _years_ before any of this could be back up and running."

"Not necessarily true."

The white and blue suited woman turned back to the scientist still cowering on the floor, reptilian interest in her eyes. "Really now…?"

* * *

"Okay ladies, quit yer yammering and get back on the bus!" Mr Barkin called out. "Stoppable, check inside for the rest… ."

After a couple minutes of deliberating what to do and how unsafe it was to stay as they were in the middle of the road, Shego and Yori had rigged up a quick stretcher and carried the duplicate cheer captain aboard the yellow transport. Laid out in the aisle with various towels and a couple blankets arranged as makeshift bedding, the twins tasked to keep an eye on her, the mood of the remaining twenty-five minutes to the truck stop had not been as festive as it had been. Being classmates to a world-saving hero, the girls all knew the sort of craziness that found her – and sometimes them in the crossfire – yet encountering a duplicate was one of the strangest things to happen to all but three of them.

Searched, the only things found on the Girl-with-Kim's-face had been a modest-sized flip-phone with a blank memory, and a duplicate of Kim's old PDA-style Kimmunicator. That was all she had besides the clothes on her back, which told a story of having been worn and slept in far too long.

Trying the communications device, the teen was surprised after a few moments of a Seek screen, her fourteen year old tech support specialist popped up on the screen. _"Wha'up Kim?"_ he answered pleasantly.

"Hey Wade…," she started.

"_Uhm, Kim? Where did you get this unit from?"_ he frowned.

"I was actually hoping you might be able to tell me."

"_This is strange. Your old Kimmunicator is still on standby, and from its GPS chip, still in your bedroom. Probably on its computer docking cradle. You have your wrist unit, and Ron's comm is also on the bus with you, but it seems to be off. He probably forgot to charge it again."_

"So what can you tell me about what I'm talking to you on right now?"

"_I have no idea where this unit came from, Kim." _the black teen was puzzled._ "It's as if it appeared out of thin air."_

Kim smirked ruefully, "Something like that. Can you check it out from where you are?"

The boy took a long pull on the straw in his ever-present drink before looking pained, _"Let's not be insulting, Kim. I'll set up a virtual machine, download and sift its contents, and get back to you as soon as I can."_

"Please and thank you!" she logged off, tucking the device into her gym bag external pocket with its companion cellphone. For the rest of the ride she held a war session with Shego, Ron, Monique, and a listening Barkin. By the time they were pulling into the lot of an establishment declaring – on a sign fifteen feet tall – 'Food&Fuel', 'Fill Both Your Tanks', and 'Last Gas for 100 Miles', they had come to the consensus not to do anything about the ersatz Kim until and unless she not regain consciousness by the time they reached Little Rock. Only then would they seek out a hospital to take her to.

As per DOT regulations the bus was emptied out for refueling, with the quiet exception of a Sleeping Kim. A blanket close to the color of the flooring covered her, camouflaging her good enough so long as no one stepped aboard. The cheerleaders along with Ron and his two ladies made bee-lines for the rest rooms before checking the gift shop and restaurant, Shego admonishing everyone not to fill up as dinner was not far off.

Ignored of course by the blond boy upon his finding a Bueno Nacho Express counter tucked in a corner of the establishment. He had already tucked away a few large over-filled sacks on the bus.

Now forty minutes later, they were ready to leave.

Like an earnest sheepdog, Ron chased down and rounded up the giggling gaggle of cheerleaders of whom only Bonnie snapped back in disgust at his antics reminiscent of his term as the Mad Dog mascot.

Most were on their way across the blacktopped lot when the sound quality changed, suddenly becoming distant and flat, like what the change of cabin pressure in an airliner does to ears before they equalize and pop. Once again the very air, this time in the middle of the parking lot, took on a glassy or plastic appearance. Momentarily seeming very solid yet elastic as it stretched and distended, three figures quickly 'vacu-forming' into existence.

"_Aaaaauuuuuhhhhh‼"_ Monique screeched in pain, grabbing her head with both hands, collapsing to her knees on the tarmac.

"Monique!" yelled Kim. Although she and Barkin had related what they had witnessed about the arrival of the Other One, this was the first any others saw it first hand. Having a bad feeling about things, she slipped into mission mode. "Shego, Ron, Yori, defensive postures! Bonnie, get the squad on the bus… Zita, Mr B, see to Monique."

She had barely finished when their ears popped. The new arrivals, having punched through from thin air, which wobbled briefly while snapping back to normal, took a quick couple steps forward as if recovering from toe-catching stumbles. Once the three regained their balances, the eyes of both groups locked upon one another, some sizing up the situation, most in shock and surprise.

A few of the cheerleaders were watching from the windows of the school bus, a couple in the doorway with opened mouths. Teacher and A/V clubist were frozen in the act of lifting the still moaning black girl while Temp, visitor and two students stood at arms length side-by-side before the newcomers.

Nearly more shocking than the strangeness of their arrival were their identities. Two were easily recognizable, if a couple decades older…

_Bonnie and Monique._

The older brunette's expression was her highly familiar bees-up-her-ass frown, if more severe by several degrees. Used to seeing idems of herself, she paid scant attention to the younger version, who stared back with slackened jaw. The black woman's serenely composed but for the evil glare of anger in eyes which fought against wincing as if trying to ignore a massive migraine. Her gaze flickered over her groaning alternate, dismissing her with apparent satisfaction. The third woman was unknown to the teenagers. With a slight resemblance to Kim but for the carroty color of hair and Crazy radiating from her eyes, she dropped into a crouch immediately upon break-through. All wore a white and blue uniform evocative of Kim's battlesuit crossed with Shego's trademarked design.

Although no weapons were drawn it was like a Mexican Standoff, with some twenty feet separating them, neither side able or willing to move. However there was movement. Slow, and with countering reactions, yet movement all the same.

With a smooth sleight-of-hand motion, _tessen_ war fans appeared in Yori's hands. As she spread them open, the new Bonnie and Monique each slowly placed hands on the butts of firearms, holsters slung low on their thighs like quick-draw gunslingers. Without her usual flourish, arms down but away from her sides, Shego's green glow flared to life. The generals unsnapped thumbreak retaining straps on their weapons. Redheaded and blond youths sunk into their respective ready stances. The sneering carrot-top's body visibly quivered, like an overtaxed dam struggling to hold back floodwaters.

_Beep beep be beep_

With _Yojinobori Saru, Scrambling Monkey,_ Yori danced across in front of her companions, metal fans deflecting most of the bullets from speed drawn weapons. Diving to the left, the ersatz substitute teacher let fly several plasma bursts before hitting the ground with shoulder to roll back to high-heeled feet. Ron – increased confidence making his Monkey Kung Fu more _hit_ than _miss_ – leapt high over the gunfire, angling for the unknown combatant. Kim dashed to the right, trying to draw and divide the attack.

Other people in the parking lot, initially as frozen as the Middletonians, dove for cover screaming.

"Izz, _go!"_ growled Older Bonnie as green energy beams splashed against some form of personal shielding. They had, after all, faced off against many Shego idems in the service of the Supreme One, who had long ago seen to the protection of the favored among her troops. The crouching girl sprung forward like a released spring, scampering the first ten feet on all fours with feral ferocity.

"_Yeeaaaaaahaa haa haa haa haa‼"_

Like Yori and her fans, a _liú xīng chuí,_ or meteor hammer, a bolo-like weapon with a six foot length of durable chain between heavily weighted balls simply _was_ in the wild-child's hands. She sent one end whipping upward to catch one of Ron's ankles. "Hey!" he protested as a strong jerk pulled him down to slam into the asphalt. At the moment of impact the blue aura of his Mystical Monkey Power briefly flared, his body leaving a depression in the ground rather than the other way around. While eminently more proficient with his growing skills, his full-on aura still seemed mostly a subconscious reflex.

_Beep beep be beep_

"Move it people!" snapped Barkin, nearly unconscious black girl hefted into his arms. "Get it in gear and _on the bus NOW‼"_

Zita shoved the cheer squad lieutenant fully into the vehicle, clearing the way for the last few of them to scramble and push their own way in. The chaperone followed up last, dropping Monique into Kim's place in the front row, then made for the driver's seat.

Strenuous acrobatics sending clips and barrettes holding her Ms Go hairstyle flying, allowing lusciously thick raven tresses to fall around her butt, Shego kept up a constant barrage of plasma at the older armed women. Growling in frustration as force-fields protected them – _Just like Drakken's unit which the Doofus-as-Zorpox had fixed_ – she nonetheless continued to press her attack as it seemed they were unable to shoot with the barriers up.

_Beep beep be beep_

"I shall cover you Kim-_chan!"_ Yori moved to place herself between the fight and teen hero, fans at the ready to deflect any potshots from the shooters.

"Go Wade!" she lifted her arm to speak into her wrist device.

"_EVIL, Kim‼ Evil pure and simple, from the Eighth Dimension!"_

Eying the older versions of her friends, "Eighth? I thought time travel is supposed to be the Fourth Dimension."

"_Time is _a_ fourth dimension, but according to which particular super-dimensional model you subscribe to there are anywhere from eleven to twenty-six dimens…"_

"Whoop whoop whoop… nerd alert!"

"_Oh no! They've already tracked you? Or rather, them?"_

"Rather busy here… what can you tell me? And make it the short version with short words, please and thank you," the redhead had to drop her arm in order to shift back and forth as Yori did, keeping the ninja and her blocking _tessens_ between herself and the action. A good thing as occasionally the shooters' shields would drop momentarily a couple times a minute.

Ron had his hands full dealing with the crazy redhead. She was expertly swinging her _chuí,_ alternating between wide whipping circles and wrapping the chain around and about parts of her body to make the direction of attacks unpredictable. He was not only taking some very solid sounding hits, but being entangled by it severely hampered his own movements.

"_Kim, you've got to get out of there! I managed to download and open all the files on that other Kimmunicator… Kim, they were written by me!"_

"You?"

"_Well, not me-me, but a Wade from an alternate reality! I had thought I had recognized the encryption, but it was one I'd yet to complete. This other Wade evidently did. It's far superior to anything I'll be able to write if I had another twenty years. In another minute I'll begin an upload to upgrade the OS and applications of your wrist-comm. The hardware is just able to support it, but you'll have improved functionality as well as a back-up of everything the other PDA has."_

"Can you tell me what's on it?" Kim continued to duck and weave, taking in the situation and noting how her partners were beginning to slow down.

"_Wish I could, Kim, but there is a ton of stuff in the files. The compression algorithms are astounding. I managed to get just enough from the first file to know some evil overlord known as 'The Supreme One' will be hot on the trail of… that other you."_

"So who is she? Other than being another me but younger."

"_Then you know more than I do, in addition to having the horse's mouth to ask. I've yet to get that far. But I do know two things and can guess at a third. First this 'Supreme One' has been hunting down and killing alternate Kims, so you're in danger. Second, there was another device in addition to that one. Do _NOT_ lose it! It opens portals between worlds. And third, whoever is following is apparently tracking its progress from dimension to dimension. I'm starting the upload, which should take about ten or so minutes to complete. Do _NOT_ interrupt it or your wrist Kimmunicator will be a 'brick'."_ She was not looking at the device and so was unable to see the compact screen black out, but felt its End Call vibe.

_Killing Kims huh? Not bloody well going to happen with _this_ wabbit!_ Still, something about that one line cast a doubt in the teenager's mind, _Though if she's had some prior successes I'd better not take this _too_ lightly. Hmm, while Bonnie might like to think of herself as Queen of the World, she doesn't have the drive and killer instinct to become a 'Supreme One'. Not my Bonnie anyway. This one though, her uniform is the same as the Other Monique's… plus any self-respecting Supreme One would never stoop as to something so mundane as a tracking expedition herself._

_I hope._

The older black woman turned to her companion. "This is taking far too much time! Don't you think it time to summon reinforcements?"

"_Grrraahh!_ Ff-_ine!_" the Bonnie extracted from a utility pouch a small blue and white sphere about the size of a billiard ball, and looking for all the world the part. "Assuming this will even work in this crazy-funky timeline." She depressed a spot and tossed the activated thing in an arc above open asphalt, where it stopped and hovered. Brilliant electric-blue arcs of energy flashed from it, striking the ground repeatedly – about a dozen times – in a wide circular area.

Both sides of the fight paused to watch.

From each point where arc touched, the blacktop rippled and bubbled. In the span of five to seven heartbeats the agitated spots drew upward, melting in reverse, taking on human shapes. In short order Shego and the teens were facing an army of an additional dozen people.

Well, not people… animated asphalt statues in the forms of…

"KP…," Ron nervously backed up, as did the rest of the team. "Tell me I'm not seeing tar-babies that look like Monkey Fist, Adrena Lynn, and… Big Mike?"

"Wish I could Ron…," she replied slowly, also backing away from the larger group. Sure enough, among the dozen black figures were those with the likeness of their old foes and classmate.

Suddenly the school bus, with horn blowing, pulled up between the opposing sides, slowing but not stopping. "Possible! Get in!" called Barkin.

"Go, go, go!" Kim started moving. Yori nimbly leapt into the door, turning to help Ron, clasping his arm and pulling him up. Shego and Kim ran side-by-side, the pale-green woman kicking off her high heels. She jumped aboard. Lagging behind some, the redhead kicked up, catching an opened window. "Hit it Mr B!"

Which he did.

Tires squealed as he tore out of the rest stop, kicking up a brief spray of gravel where parking lot met the road's shoulder. Pulling her legs up, Kim clung onto the side for dear life. Moments later, a flat-bedded tractor-trailer with asphalt troops on board pulled out after them, the older chocolate-skinned 'friend' driving.

Feeling hands pulling at her, she looked up to see Tara and Hōpe working to reel her in. She was half way in when Mr Barkin took a curve to the right at nearly twice the recommended limit, which helped dump her the rest of the way in. The three of them spilled into a pile in the aisle atop the bedding laid down for Other Kim, Tara atop Hōpe but hugging her redheaded classmate fiercely. "I thought we were going to lose you!" she cried.

"Uhm, yeah… not yet Tara, but thanks for the assist! Both of you," Kim got up. She checked her wrist… _Ninety percent. Six more minutes!_ …then noticed something and looked about, "Hey, where is… ."

"Right here!" the blonde twins, Jessica and Magnolia, crowed in unison. They rested a hand each on a shoulder of the younger redhead, bracing her against the bus's movement, "She woke up at the Stop," one elaborated.

Identical faces locked identical olive-green eyes, the other's full of wonder and glee. "Are you really Kim _Possible?"_

"Of course. Aren't you too?"

The tween fiercely shook her head, "Oh no, _I_ could never be _you… ."_

"They're gaining on us. Fast," Crystal interrupted in an even tone from the back seat where she was looking out the rear window. The swarthy brunette hardly ever got excited. Annoyed and agitated with those she considered idiots, but not excited. She glanced out the back again, "Brace yourselves!"

The bus jerked forward as the chasing semi bumped the rear, sending any on their feet pitching forward. "I can't press Ol'Pete any harder, Possible!" Barkin called from the front. "Not only are we going into a series of S-curves I can only take so fast, but he's no longer a springtime chicken!"

From the roof came a series of thumps.

"Time to repel boarders!" Shego grinned predatorily. She tugged on Liz and Marcella, pulling them to their feet and positioning them just under the roof's emergency exit hatch, "You two… give me a base for a three-man." Without question they complied, spreading legs wide, middle arms clasping each other for formation stability, the outer ones grasping seat safety rails to anchor them during the vehicle's erratic high-speed swerving through curves. Waiting until after another bump from the truck, the pale-skinned woman hopped to their shoulders, quickly undid the hatch's latch… _A couple weeks ago I'd've just blasted the thing!_ … and flipped it open.

As soon as she straightened to pop her top half through, she lit up and started blasting away at the half dozen moving asphalt attackers. Her plasma had about as much effect as if she was shooting the ground of a parking lot. Some blisters and bubbling, a few hunks blown off, but otherwise they shrugged them off. Whatever they were they could not feel pain. "I'm going to need help up here Kimmie!"

"Again, I shall be 'on it'," Yori volunteered. "Barkin-_sensei,_ the door, please." As soon as it was opened the Japanese girl leapt and grabbed the upper sill, flipping upward smoothly. Not even her landing could be heard. "Shego-_san,_ please not to hit me!" she called while launching into a flying kick which landed solidly, sending one of the Tarred opposition flying off.

The following truck braked and skidded as it crashed through the passenger-side windshield.

A few seconds later, but not nearly as nimbly as his trainer, Ron gained the rooftop as well. However while the three fought above, Kim was wracking her mind. _We're in serious trouble here. Can't lose them, can't outrun them, and from the sounds of it, not even Shego's plasma is slowing them down much!_

"Kim Possible," her tween copy spoke up, "I have a plan if you can trust me."

Kim turned and again looked into the mirror of her own face. "Of course I trust you. After all, you're me."

A quick sad shake, "No, I'm not you. I may be one of your idems, but not _anyone_ can be a Kim Possible."

"'Idem'?" Kim wrapped her mouth around the word, as if tasting it.

"Look, I have a mission," the girl was hesitant in her resolution, as if trying on a new outfit. "To save the worlds, and to do that I need a Kim Possible."

_Worlds? 'A' Kim Possible?_ Suddenly Kim wondered if perhaps the girl did suffer a blow to the head with the way she was talking, but she was jolted from her thoughts along with the school bus and everyone else as the tractor trailer returned, having regained control and ramming them yet again.

The transport fishtailed as the driver fought to keep them on the road. "Possible! We can't take much more of this!"

She looked through the rear windows at the vicious visage of an older Monique, which was when her best friend once again moaned in pain near the front.

"Kim, I don't know exactly what you've gotten us into, but get us out of here!"

"KP!" … Plasma blasts, "Princess!" … "Kim!" _Why does everyone always look to _me_ for direction??_

_SLAM! _Multiple squawks rose from her classmates as they reeled.

"Okay Mini-Me," the teen hero forced herself back to the events at hand, "what's your plan?"

"There was a small device on me, like a cellphone…"

_The thing that opens dimensional portals? Uh-oh…_ "I have it up front."

"…we need it," Other Kim tried to push past, but the Older turned, leading the way. As all of them were doing, Kim's gear was sitting on the bench behind the one which was her seat. Fishing the instrument from her gym bag, she turned it over to her doppleganger. "I think I follow where you're going with this."

"Where _we're_ going."

"Right. That too." She checked her wrist Kimmunicator's upload progress. _Ninety-six percent, almost done!_ Showing it to… _herself,_ she stated evenly, "Don't do anything for two more minutes. Wade says it's vital. Besides, we have unwanted company to lose first."

The girl actually saluted, smiling. "Yes ma'am!"

Stepping over to where Marcella and Liz struggled to keep upright against the vehicle's swerving, she tapped a pale green ankle. "You've got two minutes to lose them!"

"What the _fuck_ do you think I'm trying to do up here?"

Then the captain of the squad went forward, once again grabbing the driver's divider for support. "Mr Barkin, any suggestions to get these things off our back?"

Working to keep the bus upright, he shook his head. "Sorry Possible, no low-lying branches, overhangs, or tunnels for miles if at all." They were rammed again from behind. "They'll probably run us off the road long before we get to anything serviceable."

"Off… that's it Mr B!" she pointed just shy of a left curve. "Go off the road there! Cut through the trees! Cut the tip of the curve and then regain the road."

"And run the risk of hitting a tree?" he balked. However just over their heads something heavy impacted the roof. "Desperate times… You got it Possible, all or nothing!"

_Ninety-eight percent._ "Everyone take a seat! Ron, Yori, Shego! Inside, _Now!" _she yelled as the burly driver cut the wheel hard, taking them off the road.

The former thief simply stepped off the shoulders of her base to drop lightly to the floor. However she also had a hand clasped around the blond boy's ankle, dragging him down as well. "Yeaaaaahh… oowfff!"

"Yori!" Ron and Kim shouted at the same time. The moment was too tense and serious for the redhead to bother with her usual game of 'Jinx'.

As the yellow transport dove in among the trees Yori dropped off the side of the roof. One hand grabbed an opened window, and after momentarily touching foot to the speeding ground, kicked back up, swinging herself feet-first through another seconds before the full Arkansas foliage swept the spot. "I am here Ron-_kun."_

Kim set aside that he ran and hugged her.

She turned to watch her communication watch as they bounced and jounced like mad, bottoming out against the ground with loud bangs and thunks. Leaves and branches scouring the sides and top, some torn off into the windows. Crystal reported evenly from the rear, "We're losing them. Tar babies falling like flys."

_Ninety-nine…_

Barkin shouted, "Boulder! Nowhere to turn…_ we're going to crash!"_

_Complete!_ Kim pointed to the tweener redhead, _"Now!"_

The girl pointed the device ahead of them.

"Yyyaaahhh!" Barkin took hands from steering wheel, flinging arms up to protect his head even as the vista of forest with trees and huge boulder ahead twisted, spun, and whirled in a lateral vortex ahead of them.

At full speed the brilliant yellow bus hit the phenomenon…

…and was gone.

* * *

**Notes**: I'll discuss my tardiness on my profile page and DA Journal. My name is the same almost everywhere, with or without a space.

Okay, there is quite a cast here. If you have any questions about the characters and my use of them, I suggest discussing them on my FF.N forum, reachable via my profile, so everyone can get in on it. Of course you can touch on them in Reviews too, I always appreciate reviews.


	3. Fast Pace

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kim Possible. She and related characters are owned by Disney and Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley. As this is a Multiverse story, any variations in established or original characters are my treatment and belong to me unless otherwise noted in the closing notes. At any rate it is best to ask me who to get permissions from. Otherwise hands off. Okay?

**Every Kim Possible**

Chapter Three – _Fast Pace_

"This is where they would have come out," Moanique pulled the stolen flat-bedded tractor-trailer onto the road's shoulder, placing it in park and setting the brakes. "Feedback migraine is gone, which means my idem is dead or has left the Line, which means they all did. No way a Kim, especially if she is _another_ Possible, would leave any of them behind."

"You really think that was a Kim Possible that Probable met up with?"

Cool Stare. One eyebrow cocked.

"Right. Forget I asked."

"Well you saw her. In action no less. Who do _you_ think she was?" Ticking off on fingers, "School bus, a Mr Barket, younger us, the first squad cheer team, Stoppable – ever notice how _all the Ron's_ are Stoppables? – and a Shego."

"Soooo typ of the crowd she gathers about her," the woman flipped mousy-colored hair, longer than in her younger days, in disgust. "That aperture chamber must have dropped Probable practically in her lap."

"With a dedicated nuclear reactor for power," came a self-amused voice from the cabin's sleeping nook behind them, "it could've popped'er inside her _underwear!"_

"With just the portable tapping that output, it dropped _us_ right on top of them."

General Rockweller growled, "We have _one_ order: follow and retrieve…"

"That's _two_ orders," Izzy commented, thrusting forth a hand with the appropriate number of fingers. "Tennically speaking."

"Easy, GF," the black woman laid a placating hand atop the brunette's in the process of pulling one of her sidearms, gently pushing it and the weapon back. "She is a resource provided by the Supreme One. Shadow Animates are fine an'all, but the dimensional lag time between them and their controllers means they are slower than having flesh and blood troops with us. Izzy has the benefit of being _here,_ giving us at least one lag-free lackey."

"I know! It's just she gets on my last nerve and is so… _disrespectful_ of the Supreme One!"

"What're you gonna do? You dare not shoot the Supreme One's hand-picked, and we're Lines from any agony booths. Besides," a head jerk in the direction of the redhead watching them with a partially stuck out tongue clamped firmly between teeth and green eyes radiating 'Crazy', "she _loves_ the booths!"

"It clears m'head! And I think my acne. Meh heh hem, least, I've not had an outbreak since m'first boothin'!"

"Lieutenant, you were in your late teens when your Line was Enlightened," Moanique retorted, "you shoulda been _years_ past any acne outbreaks!"

"Eh heh he! _I know!_ But why take chances?"

The brunette general made a display of double-checking her weapon's magazine was full, advancing a round, and ensuring both safety and holster thumbreak strap were firmly in place. "I swear, if I were to shoot her in the head, nothing but pudding would come out."

"Pudding! _I LOVE pudding!_ Think it'll be caramel? I love caramel pudding!"

"Will you _stop putting ideas_ in her head?" the darker-skinned general slapped the steering wheel with both hands. "Great! Not only will we have to keep an eye on her she _doesn't_ blow her own brains out in search of dessert, but now I'm_ hungry!"_

"There's _always room_ for pudding!"

"Just one bullet… I swear she'll hardly notice the extra breeze and'll probably appreciate the cross ventilation…"

"It _is_ kinda stuffy in here."

"How about we focus on the mission at hand?" the former fashion designer hopeful pointed to a living asphalt Fisk just stepping out from the trees roadside. Although there was a flesh-and-blood person in control of the asphalt form – of each of them – laying safe and sound in animating couches in a secure installation on an undisclosed Line somewhere, the golems themselves were incapable of speech, having to rely on an abbreviated form of sign language and hand signals. What the Fisk Animate was saying was, "They discovered the exiting adit point."

"About time!" the two generals opened their doors while the carroty wild-woman exited by the expediency of launching head-first through the shattered windshield, diving into a handstand-tuck-and-roll, springing lightly to feet bare but for the stirruped bottoms of her uniform's leggings. Disdaining the encumbrance, her boots usually remained rolled up in one of her fanny packs.

Upon seeing the three following, the man of blacktop led the way deeper into the roadside woods in the same monkey-like knuckle-manner consistent with most of his bio-genetically enhanced strain. After several hundred feet of wild yet not overgrown woodland forest, the occasional sound of vehicular traffic floating in the distance around them surrealistically, they came upon a huge chunk of mountain stone between some trees. Leading up to it from the other side, the direction of the school bus leaving the roadway, were visible signs of its passage but ending less than five feet shy of the natural blockade. The remaining eerily silent black figures which had survived the attack on the yellow transport milled about the area, waiting for further orders, a few evidently in conversations between their bodies back in the animation chamber.

"Yep, TBESL," the chocolate woman nodded.

"Nearly forty years and I still don't know what falls out of your mouth at times."

"'This Be Exit, Stage Left'!" supplied Izzy in amused sing-song, hopping into a crouch atop the rock. Moanique nodded confirmation.

"How do you do that?" glared Rockweller.

"Dunno. Jes' pops inna m'haed," the woman rolled eyes in independently opposing directions. "It's simple! Al'ah gotta doo is leave it blank… 'cept for th'pudding… and the answers're just there… ."

"Think we should focus, General?"

"Fff-_inne!"_ Bonnie groused. "They obviously used that adit device Freedman spoke of."

"Obviously," agreed Moanique.

"Which means, if it works as he says it does, it'll deposit them as close to the next Line's Kim Possible as it quantumly can. From there they'll have to rely on a scanner primed to her DNA."

"Assuming _that_ works. According to Freedman, the tech was untried and they were operating upon a lot of faith."

"Well ours is supposed to do the same, only by tracking its mate."

"And only reopening recent portals it made!" Izzy added, leaning forward until gravity pulled her into a simple flip to land squatting on her feet.

"She has a point, how long did the Good Doctor say we have?"

"Forty-eight hours. Unless they opened a conjunction advent, in which case we have as long as the advent stays viable."

"Right. So question is, do we return or follow?"

The three women dressed in the blue and white of the Supreme One's forces looked at each other for long minutes. It was Izzy who summed it up, "I'm crazy. But not enough to go back to _HER_ empty-handed!"

The two dark-haired generals nodded in unison.

""Follow.""

"It's been nearly thirty minutes," continued Moanique, "Depending on how fast and far they've traveled, we should either arrive through the spot, or an advent closer to where they are."

"Either way we'll be playing Catch-up," groused Rockweller.

General Moanique slipped a cellphone-like flip device from her pouch – virtually a twin to the one in Kim Probable's possession – pointing it at the spot where damage to trees and tire tracks ended. "Might as well dismiss the Putties. No use tying up the Supreme One's vital resources needlessly, and they'd not survive a transitioning intact anyway."

"I'll give them a formal report to make on our behalf." Turning to the closest Animate of an Adrena, Bonnie threw her a flurry of hand signals before once again withdrawing the billiard-ball looking device which had summoned the golem troops. A rapid double-click and the ambulant asphalt statues melted or crumbled into piles.

A strong breeze tugging at their hair and uniforms, the scene twisting into a cyclonic adit sprang to full effect, apparently signature of this new type of super-dimensional travel.

"At least it's a more pleasant transition!" Bonnie felt a psychological need to lift her voice against a nonexistent roar of motion before leaping forward, form twisting with the phenomenon and disappearing.

The black general nodded, walking after her companion.

Diving into the portal's center without hesitation, Izzy whined, "But I _like_ the pai…!"

For long minutes the on-edge vortex whirled silently like a bizarre eye watching the now empty space before once again winking from existence without trace.

* * *

A moment sliced out of time.

Not exactly frozen…

…Mister Barkin yelling with arms lifted in protection of head and face…  
…Ron and Yori on the floor, his arms wrapped about her, one of her hands grasping one of his…  
…Zita, crouching behind them, the fingertips of one hand on Ron's unintentionally brushing the Japanese's girl's, the other with video camera pointed at and out the bus' front window…  
…Tara and Hope holding onto Monique still clutching her head in agony…  
…Crystal sitting with arms crossed on the back bench, face nonplussed as if prepared for the phenomenon, braced with one leg against the bench ahead of her…  
…Twins Jessica and Maggie caught in midair having been sent flying by the last bump…  
…Liz and Marcella hugging each other fiercely, cheek-to-cheek, mouths open in wordless scream…  
…Bonnie in her seat, bracing with both arms, eyes slitted, mouth open in some complaint…  
…Younger Kim, adit opening device in both hands, frozen in the process of pitching over the front safety rail, both Kim and Shego reaching for but not yet touching her…

…more like when a digital file's data error causes the same moment to 'skip' repeatedly. Had it occurred only once it could easily have gone unnoticed, overlooked, or even ignored, so minute was the momentary bounce. However when repeated somewhere between a hundred and a thousand times, one tends to take notice.

As long as the protracted blink lasted, each individual able to soak in every detail from overloading senses, it was over nearly faster than it started.

Sound snapped back to normal, slight air currents hardly missed returned, odors previously ignored vying for simultaneous recognition. It was as if they had not been in existence for the briefest of, or perhaps momentarily caught between whatever counted as, ticks of it.

"…it can't _end_ like this…‼"  
"…Ron-_kun_…‼"  
"…Ron…‼"  
""…yeoww…‼""  
"…AAAAAAaaaaaahhhhhhhhh…‼‼‼‼‼"  
"…-wear Kim, if you get me kil…‼"

""…easy there girl!"" both former rivals snagged the head-pitching tweener, dragging her back to her feet as with a bump the bus' wheels reengaged ground, threatening to throw them into a sharp left veer. Still yelling, the perennial substitute teacher automatically re-grabbed steering wheel, wresting vehicle once more under control.

"_Holy Orsen Welles‼"_ braking hard, he brought them to a rapid stop. His call of _"Possible!"_ brought the rest of the overlapping commenting to a halt. Like the rest, Kim stared out of the windows. While it was apparently the same late afternoon time of day they had just left, an ominously overcast sky gave the impression of much later in the evening. However that was not what was of concern.

They were in the middle of a wide open tarmac stretching off in all directions, a control tower in the distance marking them as on some airport grounds. All around lay pock and sinkholes and other indications of disaster. Several airliners lay strewn about in various states of destruction, from where they had parked to apparently in the midst of taxiing or take-off. All old, for even though there were blast and scorch marks everywhere, and the wrecks burned, none were still in flames.

However, the cause for it all was obvious…

Lorwardian invasion devices which the media had dubbed as 'walkers' stood the periphery of the grounds like sentinels. They counted more than five, less than ten.

"IDTWIKA," a recovered yet awestruck Monique whispered as if the things could hear them.

"Wha…?" Shego shot an askance at her redheaded ally in the same hushed tone.

"If I had to guess…"

"By all means."

"'I don't think we're in Kansas anymore'."

"Kim! You get us out of here, you hear me? _Now-mmmm!" _Bonnie's sharper insistent tones were clamped shut by overlapping hands across her mouth from both Hope and a Tara with apologetic eyes.

However it was too late.

"Uh oh!" Jessica and Magnolia uttered together. Whether hearing them, the acerbic brunette, or sensing their presence by other means, one by one the walkers activated, turning red domed-saucer tops in their direction. As if from all of them at once, an imperious voice thundered:

**YOU ARE IN DIRECT VIOLATION OF PENAL CODE 1.13 SECTION 9  
****TURN OFF YOUR VEHICLE AND DISEMBARK  
****THROW DOWN ANY WEAPONS  
****YOU HAVE TWENTY SECONDS TO COMPLY**

Kim and Bonnie were the first ones to react. The latter's words were still muffled by her teammates' hands, but wide eyes and insistently waving and pointing arms were in accord with the former's urgent, _"Drive,_ Mr Barkin!"

As one the walkers took first steps in their direction. Not much sent the old veteran into a tizzy, but the invasion had been one of his worst fears come to life. All pitched backwards as with a nearly inarticulate bellow the man practically stood on the pedal, the rear axle spinning for long seconds before taking hold.

Shego yanked the younger Kim upright and close, "Alright, Rerun, start 'splainin'!"

**YOU NOW HAVE FIFTEEN SECONDS TO COMPLY**

Like a maniac the man sent them careening across the open field, swerving to avoid wreckage and potholes.

**YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO COMPLY**

Equally as panicked, with an expression the pale woman found both alien and obscene on a face so much like Kim's, the girl blubbered like the sidekick was occasionally wont. "I-I-I-I donno! Obviously in this Line the Lorwardians were successful! Either Possible was driven into an underground resistance, taken off-world, or… or…," she trailed off.

"Or what?" Shego shook her, remembering one of the aliens' almost casual of boasts. _"Or WHAT!"_

**YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO COMPLY**

"Or dead," the older Kim, the real Kim – _her Kim_ – answered in a strangely quiet deadpan voice, face haunted. Also remembering.

_Come Warmonga, we will take this one as a trophy. _

She had been stunned, knocked senseless by Ron's thrown body slamming into hers. Hoisted upside down by a leg like a chicken for slaughter, unable to react but hearing. As if from a distance, yet hearing nonetheless.

_She will look handsome mounted beside your thorgoggle spine._

**FOUR… THREE… TWO… ONE…  
****WE ARE NOW AUTHORIZED TO USE PHYSICAL FORCE**

"_Left!"_ cried Monique, sitting just behind the driver's seat, leaning forward, gripping the rails at his right shoulder. Responding without thought, he yanked the wheel over, a green energy beam ripping up the asphalt where they just were. _"Right!"_

"NO! _NO!"_ the green woman raged as blasts from the war devices rained about them, Barkin swerving more violently, cheerleaders screaming in counterpoint, "The Doofus prevented that! _I would have prevented that‼"_

"Maybe… here, you couldn't…," floated softly from someone. It really did not matter from whom.

All pitched to one side as the yellow transport, tires squealing, curved about a downed aircraft so hard they were in real danger of rolling over. Half turned, hanging tight, Kim snapped, "Counterweight!"

"LADIES!" Bonnie's voice rang out sharply. "To the left‼"

Used to responding without hesitation to either team captain's or lieutenant's commands, hearing both the entire squad moved automatically as one, diving, leaping, or otherwise moving to the ordered side of the bus. A few, Marcella, Crystal, and one of the twins, actually leaning far out opened windows, legs firmly in the grip of the others. With the weight shifted so, the vehicle managed to remain on its right side wheels before falling back, the girls outside folding back in before it could jounce.

"B!" Kim called, swinging about while keeping her grip on an upright guardrail, "Keep that up!"

"Squad! Single file center aisle and _Ready Routine!_ Mov'it Loser!"

Scrambling out of the way, Ron once more regained the back seat as, with a discipline worthy of a crack military unit, the girls took positions as ordered, standing along the length of the bus' central aisle, hands gripping seat-back rails for stability. Throwing a nod in Bonnie's direction that she was also at her command, Yori likewise took up position.

Although terrified out of her wits, not used to the level of action going down around her, Zita continued recording. Less out of any thought of posterity than an uncertainty of what else to do. She had wrangled herself one job to perform in order to get on the trip, and _por Deus, by God,_ she was going to do it.

"Hard left!" Monique yelled. "Three quarter circle, then double tap brakes, bear right and speed back up!"

Bellowing with each move, not having any better ideas in mind, fully encouraged with each correct prediction which saw alien weaponry missing them, Barkin continued following the fashionable student's directions without once giving thought as to how she was pulling it off. He simply put his all into each maneuver.

"Right!" Bonnie's order rang forth in counterpoint heartbeats before the squad, now focused and no longer screaming, followed suit. Although not having to exit the vehicle again, they nonetheless continued ensuring the aging school bus less likely to tip.

"Use this can-opener of yours and rip us a new hole out of here!" Shego tugged on Smaller Kim's arm holding the device.

"I can't!"

"Why not?" Big Kim added. "It did it before!"

"The unit's battery needs time to recharge!"

"How long?"

"Twenty-four hours!" the girl shouted, an edge of hysterics to her. "On its own twenty-four hours! Eight in bright sunlight, twelve overcast… four plugged into a source!"

"We don't have that kind of time, Rerun!"

"It's like a cellphone battery, yes?" came from the far back.

"Yes, Zita!" Probable replied.

"Pass it back! I have something I might can do!" the Brazilian shoved the camcorder into Ron's hands. "Keep filming!" she commanded, diving for her A/V equipment bag lodged in one of the next to last benches, left open for purposes of luggage and napping.

**YOU ARE NOW IN DIRECT VIOLATION OF PENAL CODE 1.41 SECTION 2  
**_*blast* … *blast* … *blast*  
_**HALT SO YOU MAY BE EXECUTED AND DISECTED**

"I don't _BLOODY THINK SO‼"_ answered Barkin. "No one's anal probing Mrs Barkin's second favorite son!"

"Right! Under that one!" from Monique. "No one mentioned ana… ."

"_STILL NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!"_ swinging the wheel hard. The vehicle swerved.

"Left!" commanded Bonnie. The girls hopped to.

The yellow vehicle eked beneath one walker's down-coming leg and under its body just in time for one of the rear ones to lift out of the way. Two units to either side, swiveling to track them, hit their fellow with crossfire, each 'kneecapping' a leg. The injured machine began a slow tumble into a fourth.

Scooping the clamshelled unit from her double's hand, Kim leaned past the Japanese non-cheerleader, "B! Get this to Zita!"

The girl took the thing without argument. "Over Under Pom Pass!" In a routine meant to send a different colored pom-pom moving around the squad, the Second Lead cheerleader rotated stiffened right arm back over her head, skipping Tara immediately behind her, handing it off to Hope. Who rotated her arm under Marcella's armpit for Liz to take, who went over-hand past Crystal's shoulder to Magnolia. Who skipped her twin under-hand to drop it into Ron's lap.

From where the Hispanic snatched it while the blond tried to keep a proper if hasty composition of events. Locating and identifying the faux cellphone's various ports, Zita fumbled with a kit of universal tips, spilling most as the vehicle jounced to opposing directions from Monique and Bonnie, yet managing to hang onto the one she wanted. Quickly she hooked up a battery designed to provide cellphones and MP3 players emergency life. "I got it‼"

"Press the green button!"

Flipping it open and finding the proper control, Zita pointed out the nearest side window purely out of reflex. Another portal swirled open next to the burned-out hulk of an airliner broken in three places, just under its nose kept upright by forward landing gear like the chin of a man waiting for a punch.

Somehow the black classmate had anticipated the odd positioning, having already instructed Barkin into a series of hard and soft turns around and under alien machines, downed aircraft, and the larger holes in the tarmac. With each of the now confident directions, Bonnie ordered the team to the contra-side.

As much as Shego had observed the cheerleaders in their drills during the past couple of weeks, at that moment she marveled at exactly how disciplined the squad truly was. Maybe it was simply the situation – practice never having such a dire edge – and they rising to meet it, but just as equally it could have had something to do with being sharpened by the mettle of their captain. More the latter probably. There had to be a reason why this particular group of girls made the First String roster's cut.

_If GJ or any of the world's many military after me were this sharp, I'd have been captured every week! Good thing Miss All That never brought them along! _

Yet not just them. Everyone on the bus, but for her and Kim the Second clinging to her tightly, were pulling their weight. _And Dark'n'Sweet… what's up with her? No one runs a lucky streak this long… Not that I should complain, but definitely more's there than meets the eye!_

"Swing it wide!" the allegedly lucky girl under consideration cried while waving to the same side of the bus as they were turning into. Bonnie, immediately picking up the intention, ordered the girls low, to the rear and to the same side.

The bus' tail-end fishtailed, swinging about widely, locked and bumping wheels leaving dark skid marks in protest as green energy blew divots out of the blacktop mere feet after their passing. Monique patted Barkin's shoulder, not needing to voice the obvious…

"Punching it‼"

"Everyone grab hold!" Kim shouted.

Bonnie hardly had time to dutifully repeat the order as the yellow transport, chased by Lorwardian fire, lined up for the portal's swirling eye, surged forward, hitting it once again at speed.

* * *

When the tracking trio punched through, the Line's dimensional _p-brane_ snapping back and momentarily wobbling like stretched cellophane, the first thing they saw was a grouping of six Lorwardian war walkers arrayed towering around the wreckage of a ruined commercial aircraft. Their domed tops focusing on a single area with the patience only machines could practice. A couple more lay off to one side, at least one missing a couple legs, trying but failing to get upright.

In exasperation, Bonnie sighed, drawing her right pistol with deliberate motion, other hand digging into a pouch, "I hate these fuckers."

"Oooh! Oooh! Not me! I love mixing it up with them!"

"Lorwardians. So the local Kim is either with an underground resistance, off-world," commented Moanique, "or dead."

In the process of swapping out her weapon's magazine for one with bullets glowing electric red, the brunette general scoffed. "Shha, not hardly likely. Knowing K, 'dead' is nearly impossible. Took over two years to kill the one, and you saw her, more holes in her than flesh and she was not only breathing, but fucking still _talking_ when the Supreme One dealt the final…"

**HALT**

One of the alien machines had taken notice of their presence and was in the action of turning about, its five companion units still standing sentinel over the same spot. Evidently not considering three women on foot enough threat to warrant the attention of all.

**YOU ARE IN DIRECT VIOLATION OF PENAL CODE 1.13 SECTION 9  
****PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS  
****YOU HAVE TWENTY SECONDS TO COMPLY**

"Hey! Leave us alone, we'll leave y'alone! Them's th'deal!"

"I don't know why the United Galactic Federation continues to put up with the poaching bastards. Clearly they're in violation of the Roswell Resolution."

"Yeah! _Yer the ones violatin'!_ This issa protected preservative planet! _Mosquitoes_ ar'ndangered species y'know!"

With a stiff-armed two-handed grip, Bonnie took steady aim. Upon pulling the trigger, about a foot from the barrel a red beam the thickness of her arm blazed to life. Shadows danced wildly across the tarmac, flashed to life as the energy leapt forth to spear the walker at the seam where glowing dome arched from the top of the saucer. Straight through and erupting from the far side. After a moment as if thinking about it, much like some humans struck between the eyes, a couple of quick explosions erupted as it slowly crumpled into a heap.

_That_ caught the attention of the rest. Five more sensor domes swung in their direction as the units reassessed the danger. Each took a step forward, the rear three lifting legs high to clear the burnt out hulk.

Izzy whistled. "Hey! Lemme try!"

**YOU ARE NOW IN DIRECT VIOLATION OF PENAL CODE 3.14 SECTION 15  
C****EASE HOSTILE RESISTENCE  
****PREPARE FOR TERMINATION  
****YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO COMPLY**

Darker-skinned general, with restraining hand on the eager woman's shoulder, commented calmly, "Stand down, Lieutenant. The Supreme One only graced us with a limited supply of _Ka'me'ha_ ordinance…," then to the brunette, "…so how about trying to consolidate the next few shots, hmm?"

"Think you can do better?"

"It's your gun design. You're the trick shot."

"Then allow me to concentrate, please and thank you… ." Taking aim once more, this time with only one slitted eye, Rockweller shifted two steps to the right. "That's it, line up those legs… ." The next bullet, charged with the Supreme One's very own chi energy by the woman herself, lanced out to shear through half the inside 'hip' joint of the closest alien device and then through half the outside 'hip' of the limb aligned immediately behind it. Two more explosions preceded its legs shearing off.

So hobbled, the thing crumpled rearward to its right, where the sharp edge of its 'head' impacted two of the 'thighs' of its neighbor, which then twisted as it proceeded to topple back and over toward the next.

**YOU ARE T-T-TO CEASE HOS'ILE AC-C-CTION 'N-N-N' ACCEPT TER-MI-N-N…**

"Nice. Perfect dominoes shot," Moanique congratulated as one-by-one the falling mecha took each other down amid sparks and explosions, both muffled and loud.

"Ye hah hah, _yeeEAaah‼"_ the carrot-top crowed, throwing her hips about in dance to a rhythm only she was privy to. _"Five with one blow!_ Who bad… we bad… you mad… too sad… ."

Holstering her handgun, Bonnie prompted, "What's the tracker say?"

Pulling it out, giving it a flip practiced from similarly styled communications units, the raven beauty reported, "Gone. No longer on-Line. Forty-seven and a quarter hours til non-viable adit."

"Arrgh! Even _this_ Kim is a pain! Open the adit and lets get after them."

Flipping the thing closed, tucking it away, "Sorry, NCDNTTR."

Frowning, Bonnie turned to the youngest, "Alright, Pudding, what does your empty head say to that?"

"'No Can Do, Needs Time To Recharge'."

A whistle while scanning the area, "Wow. If I hadn't said it myself, I don't think even I would have known what it meant."

"What are you looking for now?"

"One, securing our position. Sudden disconnection of six active walkers from their netless is bound to draw eventual investigation. Two, I am still hungry, and I'd rather not have to use our rations if there's any alternatives. And third, a source of power. The tracker says twenty-four hours on its own, or four with a source." She turned back to them with a dry smirk, "I'd rather not hang around a full day. How about you?"

"Hell no."

"Prolly a buncha snacks over inna concourses," Izzy suggested, setting off at a quick pace. "Maybe even some Pop Pop's!"

"Ugh! Save me from preservatives!"

"Maybe even some _corndog chips!"_

"Come on, General Grumpy," half-heartily tugging at her shoulder, Moanique sashayed after the other.

"Supreme One save us from preservatives… ."

* * *

Dr Betty Director walked up the woodland path. Looking up, with one eye she checked the low-lying Arkansas sun through the thick treetops. _Nearly five-thirty,_ she judged, even though she had more accurate means of keeping time, _Less than forty-five minutes response time. Not too shabby._ All things considered, it was a beautiful day for a stroll. _If not for the nature of Wade's report._

Upon reaching the end, a brief clearing ending at a large grey stone boulder, she snapped, "Report."

Looking up, Special Agent Will Du detached himself from a small group of operatives in white science lab coats, each fiddling with a different kind of scanning device. "Madam Director, all eyewitness reports collaborate that of Junior Agent Lode's. Apparently three women appeared out of thin air at the rest stop and truck fueling depot down the road to accost Asset Possible's party. From there a high-speed chase between their scholastic transport and the stolen semi lead to both here where the trail of bus ends, and thirty-five yards further on where the truck stands parked on the highway shoulder, motor still running. Currently there are no signs of any of the principles."

"Identities of the three?" she asked absently while exercising her own skills earned in the field so many years prior to read the signs. _Typical tracks for a Type-C school bus, ending suddenly, yet no signs of braking._ "Teleportation?"

"Forensic artists are working with the eyewitnesses even as we speak, and so far, scans reveal no method of super-transpositioning currently known."

"Experimental?"

"Ma'am, as a professional, it is not in my nature to skip even the long shots."

"Of course not," she nodded, keeping her head low, hiding a mild smirk by pretending to examine a spot. Then she no longer needed to prevaricate, "Will, what are these black mounds? Looks to be eight or nine of them."

The lead field agent summoned one of the white coated operatives, "Cooper. A moment."

A tall, gangly young man wandered over. "Special Agent?"

Indicating what Betty was now kneeling by, "Have you determined the composition of these mounds yet?"

Cooper leaned back on his heels defensively. "Well of course I have. You asked me to and I did so right awa…"

"What are they, Cooper?" Betty cut him off, knowing if she did not he could conceivably continue to protest at length an imagined slight against his efficiency.

"If you were to check your Global Justice Mobile Database Units, you'd find I've already uploaded my analysis of the compositions as eighty percent carbon; ten percent hydrogen; six percent sulfur with small amounts of oxygen, nitrogen; and trace amounts alcohol, carboxyl, phenolic, amine, thiol, iron, nickel, vanadiu…"

"Which is what?"

"It's a petroleum-based _asphaltenes _compoun…"

"Sheldon…!"

"Asphalt. A common formulation for the area. Specifically, identical to that of the nearby refueling and eatery depot."

"Ah yes, the reports of tar-babies growing out of the ground and coming to life. Thank you Sheldon. Dismissed." the one-eyed woman waved him away. As he went back to his previous pursuit, she remained squatting in place, deep in thought.

It was several minutes, during which he stood silent vigil without fidget, back ramrod straight, before the Mediterranean prompted, "Ma'am?"

"What of this 'Black Mesa'?"

"Special Agent Nyn still has an ETA of several minutes from its location in New Mexico. However as of her last check in, she is of the recommendation that if it is indeed as sealed as its records seem to suggest, that a breach be postponed until more in the way of background can be checked and verified. It appears something unprecedented went down there. Its very existence has been redacted and disavowed from every available source."

A nod, "Tell Nyna that as Respondant Agent in Charge, she has full jurisprudence and to follow her gut."

Du fidgeted before opining, "I'm uncomfortable with gut reactions, Madam Director. More often than not they are in response to a bad lunch than a good hunch."

Half-smile, "Why, Will, that actually rhymed."

"Purely unintentional, Ma'am."

"I suppose it was. Nonetheless, Nyna's intuitions have a solid track record. Better the results of thoughtful than thoughtless. Relay the order."

"Very well."

"I'm not sure what all this portends, Will," she continued, straightening, and although not having touched anything, wiping hands on her thighs, "but it would appear the content of the files attached to Agent Lode's report may be more science fact than fiction. Dimensional travel, troops drawn whole-cloth from the very ground, and thousands of alternate realities under the heel of a tyrant the likes of which makes Hitler seem a petulant child throwing a tantrum.

"It seems we may be facing a credible threat from a source with a scope even greater than international – or even extraterrestrial – proportions. And I'm not entirely certain we'll be properly prepared or able to repel it." A pause. "I want an immediate upgrade of Alert Status to Orange Network-wide."

Without blink or hesitation, "Confirmation phrase?"

Not turning around, the woman pulled out her mobile database unit, keying in commands as she spoke. "From Double Take to Fast Pace."

"Escalation of Alert Status confirmed," the stiff-spined youth turned, standing back-to-back with his superior, pulling forth and activating his own MDU. "Fast Pace. Escalated from Double Take." Both officers pressed their thumbs to biometric sensor pads, then passing their units with right hands to the other's left, presented thumbs once again. Every station and MDU display throughout the Global Justice Network worldwide, as well as every other light in each facility corridor, turned orange.

After swapping the devices back, Betty looked once more for the sun through the thick foliage, now even lower on the horizon. "Wherever she is, I can only hope Kim Possible is in better shape than any of us, for once again she is in the thick of it."

* * *

If the GPS feature of the Kimmunicators were working properly, with the wrist-mounted one upgraded to the same functionality as the New Kim's older PDA-style, both piggybacking on the local Wade's satellite system – supposedly invisible to him unless establishing a connection directly with him – they were somewhere in the New Jersey Pine Barrens. If the theory behind the technology held true, then the local Kim was not far away. What she could be doing within two hundred miles of the southern half of the Garden State was anyone's guess.

"Of course," Ron had remarked offhandedly, "we've ended up some pretty unusual places a couple times a week the past few years, so no real wonder there, KP."

After hours of driving by the seat of his pants, Mr Barkin had found a place for them to park deep within the wild woods near a fresh water lake. The over-growing nature of the place made spotting them from road or waterways virtually impossible even despite the bus' brilliant chrome yellow paint. Everyone was tired, coming off of adrenalin rushes, and although Bonnie wanted to bitch about nearly everything, laying blame to both Kims, when the rest of the squad groaned, begging her to give it a rest for the night, even she turned in for a fitful night's sleep. Even so, at Shego's suggestion, seconded by the veteran teacher and supported by Yori, a watch schedule had been established.

As it was a clear evening and temperate, the vehicle's roof was selected as the watch post. Mr Barkin had taken the first stint while Yori scouted the area, setting ninja stealthy alarms and traps. She then took the second watch. Now nearly midnight, Kim climbed onto the bus top to spell the quiet Japanese girl. She found her sitting Lotus, a folded blanket for a mat, seemingly at one with the quiet sounds of insects and other nocturnal life.

Without moving, "Good evening, Possible-_sama. _You are early."

Taking a seat next to yet not looking at her, Kim replied, "Good evening, Yori. 'Sama'? I don't believe I know that one. I thought we had graduated to 'Kim-chan'."

Quite conversationally, the visiting student explained, "Circumstances have changed, Possible-_sama._ This is no longer a time for casual familiarity, which makes _'chan'_ inappropriate. _'Sama'_ is much like _'san',_ yet instilled with more respect as for one's superior."

"Oh please, Yori! I'm far from being superior to you. I mean, I may know a few martial arts, but I'm no ninja."

"You speak with great modesty and humility, Possible-_sama._ Which only serves to highlight your worthiness for my respect."

"So not the drama."

"Incorrect, honorable _daimyō,_ the drama as you say is indeed 'so the'."

"D'yammo?"

"_Daimyō._ Hmm…," the girl's head inclined momentarily. "It is a position of appointed office roughly that of a… old western lawman…"

"Sheriff? Marshal?"

"I believe sheriff will do. The usage may not be entirely correct, but for our language and cultural differences I believe it to be a workable comparison. The circumstances we currently find ourselves in requires I offer my services as _ninja_ to you in this capacity."

"Well I'm no sheriff either!"

"That too is incorrect, Possible-_sama._ In case you were unaware, during the unfolding of this afternoon's events it was to you everyone looked for answers, guidance, and command."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask for all that."

"The most worthy of _daimyō_ do not," she stood smoothly, using only the strength of unfolding legs to rise to her feet. "They simply answer the call when sounded and rise to the occasions. As you have done many times, today included."

Tucking hair behind an ear, "I don't know about all that…"

"Even worthy humility grows old and stale, _daimyō._ Best to not overdo it falsely, and embrace your destiny."

"Hmm. Maybe. Thank you, Yori," Kim reached out a hand, touching hers lightly in gratitude. "You do me a great honor. Your service today was greatly appreciated. Get some rest. Good night."

"Good night, Possible-_sama."_ The ninja walked away, dropping off the side of the vehicle as easily as she had during the chase earlier, making for the door left partially open. _Do not thank me yet, _daimyō,_ for there is little honor to the purpose of my visit to America. Regardless of my performance during the upcoming days, I fear I shall yet bring great shame and dishonor to us all._

* * *

**Notes**: A lot more technobabbling terms tossed about this time. I've started a Glossary on my Deviant Art page (same name, LoveRobin, no space). Initially I was going to run entries as needed per chapter, but realized that would make for a scattered and confusing reference material, so it was suggested I place it on DA where I can edit and update while keeping it alphabetized as I go along. Other than an entry for The Supreme One, it is not a compendium of alternatives of any of the characters. Feel free to ask questions there so I can get a feel on what needs adding or editing. However, keep a mind on spoilers for those who've yet (foolish of them, huh?) to read the fic.

I find myself lamenting not thinking of numbering the Supreme One's trackers as four, including a Ty Lee – yes, from _Avatar, the Last Airbender, that_ Ty Lee, if a little older – who would make an excellent addition to the group as well as nicely offsetting Izzy's Crazy. Ah well. Maybe if the Supreme One's scientists ever manage to get Black Mesa back online…

The mention of a galactic civilization and mosquitoes comes from the _Lilo & Stitch _series courtesy of the _Kim Possible_ crossover episode _Lilo & Stitch:__Rufus,_ although the name of the Roswell agreement is mine alone.


End file.
